


Losing My Religion

by CaliBDiamond



Series: The Dark Side of Me [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 56,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22656286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliBDiamond/pseuds/CaliBDiamond
Summary: SEQUEL TONot Strong EnoughWhen Iza Tacor walks back into his life, Obi-Wan takes it upon himself to try and pull her out of the darkness and into the Light where he believes she truly belongs.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s), Original Clone Trooper Character(s) & Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Dark Side of Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629274
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16





	1. Oh No, I've Said Too Much

It had been three years since Obi-Wan felt any sort of disturbance along the Bond he shared with Iza.

In those three years, a lot had changed. The Chancellor had been discovered to be the Sith Lord puppetmaster pulling the strings behind the Separatist movement—he was still quite proud of Anakin for resisting the man’s influence; it had made him swell with a sense of pride that he’d quickly had to beat back with a very large baton in order to maintain his natural inner balance—and the damage caused by the war was slowly being repaired, one world at a time. For the first time in the longest time he could remember, there was _peace_ among the galaxy. The Clones had been given the freedom to go out into the universe and do as they pleased for the rest of their lives, as soldiers were no longer required by the Republic. Jedi returned to their normal way of life as peacekeepers, continuing to travel where they were needed to maintain that peace.

He still carried Iza’s lightsaber at his belt, though he’d never used it even once. Anakin would often tease him about how he must harbor some _secret affections_ for the young woman, but he simply brushed him off. Nobody had to know anything about the things that he held locked away in his head and heart—not even Anakin. As far as anyone else was concerned, he was simply holding onto it for her. He would see her again one day, he was sure of it, and he didn’t want to be caught without it.

He never expected to hear her call to him so desperately one night while he slept. It was like having someone scream in his ear, jolting him awake with a fiery sensation that reminded him of the Force lightning that had been used upon him by Count Dooku a handful of times before. He’d leapt into action without realizing the threat wasn’t in the room with him, lightsaber filling the room with its steady hum and bright blue glow as he stared around trying to figure out where the scream had come from. Something like fear weighed heavy on his chest and he realized it wasn’t his own.

 _Iza_.

Powering off the lightsaber, he waved a hand to open the door and rushed out at top speed, nearly mowing someone down in the process. Tossing an apology over his shoulder, Obi-Wan wasted no time barreling down the steps leading out of the Temple, trying to pinpoint just _where_ her Force signature was coming from. Was she on Coruscant? She would have to be. Their Bond had never been strong enough for him to reach for her while she was off-world. A strange shiver went up his spine at the thought of her having used Dark Side energy in order to call to him, but he suppressed it and did his best to concentrate.

 _The city_.

He couldn’t get to a speeder fast enough. There’d been no time to _ask_ to borrow the one parked on the civilian walkpath, but he made note to at least return it to the right owner when he’d finished with it. Following the signature was a tricky thing because it seemed to come and go in strange waves. Something was _very_ wrong and as he weaved in and out of the thick traffic leading into Galactic City; he could feel it worming into his gut, grabbing hold and _twisting_ in such a violent way that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pull over quickly enough if he got sick.

**_THERE._ **

Slamming on the speeder’s breaks hard enough to nearly toss himself from the seat, he hastily parked the thing and jumped down to continue his search. People moved out of his way with almost no hesitation—was that his influence or were they not willing to be knocked down to the very bottom of the city?—and when he got to where the crowd was gathered in a thick circle, he knew he’d found her.

“ _Iza!_ ” Barging right through the ring of bodies, Obi-Wan felt that horrible need to be sick again when he found the brunette kneeling over what appeared to be the body of a child. A _young_ child. A young child that bore a striking resemblance to Catcher, he noticed the longer he looked.

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name and she stared at him with those damned pleading eyes of hers and just _crumbled_.

“ _Help me_ ,” her hands were shaking as she held them over the child’s chest, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t wake him up.”

_Oh, **Force**._

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what to do. With a wave of his hand he gently pushed the crowd back and knelt beside Iza to see if he could provide some kind of assistance. He knew he wouldn’t be able to. He sensed no life in the child, and he did not have the kind of power needed to draw from to bring him back. Iza hadn’t been _dead_ when he revived her—but it’d been dangerously close.

“Come on, baby,” Iza’s voice shook as her fingers spread out wider, shaking so violently that Obi-Wan worried about what sort of energy she was calling upon. “Daddy’s waiting for us…”

**_Daddy_** _._

The child was hers for sure. That thought only made his stomach wrench into tighter knots and he fought hard against the need to be sick.

“Iza,” laying a tentative hand on her shoulder, Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised at all when she smacked him away. Swallowing, he ran his tongue over his bottom lip and tried again. “Iza, he’s gone.”

“No…” her voice was so soft and tiny, and Obi-Wan could hear people in the crowd letting out sympathetic murmurs as she leaned over and rested her forehead to the child’s tiny chest. “ ** _NO_**. Not my baby, _please_ , not my baby!”

Getting to his feet, the Jedi quietly began trying to disperse the crowd. He could feel that familiar thickness beginning to build in the air around the Fallen Jedi, but there was no raging heat. Just a cold, harsh sorrow that crept into his soul and chilled him—grasped his heart and lungs and made it hard to breathe. When the ring of people had thinned enough, Obi-Wan turned back to Iza and felt that coldness clench harder in his chest.

“My sweet _baby_ ,” she was cradling the limp child to her and he could see the place where a blaster bolt—likely from a simple pistol—had struck the poor thing between the shoulders. He never stood a chance. “Mommy’s so sorry. She’s _so sorry_.”

“Iza,” surprised at the thickness in his voice, the Jedi cleared his throat and approached slowly, kneeling in front of her to offer his hand. “Darling, we must get you off the street.”

“What am I going to do?” Her cheek was pressed to the side of the child’s head and she didn’t seem to be looking at him. “Catcher’s going to…”

“Please,” if she wouldn’t take his hand, he would just have to move her himself. Obi-Wan didn’t like feeling as though he was rushing her and depriving her of her grief, but she couldn’t stay here. Walking around behind her, he gently slid his hands beneath her arms to help her to her feet, not surprised when she clung to the child like she was afraid he’d try and take him. Instead, he carefully steered her away from the scene and to a more secluded place where she could sit and mourn without hundreds of eyes watching.

“I don’t understand,” her fingers were still grasping the back of the child’s tunic, tears dampening his dark hair as she stared blindly at the wall just across the way. “It’s always worked before.”

Shaking his head as he sat down, careful to let her have her space, Obi-Wan chewed his tongue. He didn’t know how to explain without possibly enraging her; as if she wasn’t already upset enough.

“Healing only works if the heart is still alive,” he said softly, already feeling the heat in the small space starting to rise. _Damn_. He’d wanted to avoid this. “We cannot bring people back from the dead, Iza. Not even your kind.”

“My _kind_ , Obi-Wan?”

“I mean no disrespect.” Both hands went up in defense. The last thing he wanted was to fight. After a moment or two, the heat drained away and he realized that she didn’t want it any more than he did.

“This is going to kill Catcher,” she said, swallowing thickly. “We tried so hard for him. We went through so much.”

“What’s his name?” He hoped that it wouldn’t spark her anger again. Imagine his shock when she let out a breathless laugh and cracked the weakest of smiles.

“Mace,” running fingers through the boy’s delicate looking hair, Iza’s jaw wobbled and more tears crawled down her cheeks. “Macemillian Tacor.”

“You named him after your Master,” it was a statement of surprise more than a question.

“He was the only father I ever knew, Obi-Wan,” rolling a shoulder in a weak shrug, the brunette smoothed a wrinkle in the boy’s tunic and sighed. “Catcher had no qualms. He just calls him his _Little Trooper_.”

It almost brought a smile to Obi-Wan’s face, but he knew better. Iza was in no state for him to be smiling. She’d likely take it the wrong way and things could go very wrong if that happened.

“What am I going to do?” She asked again, turning green eyes to him. “I came here to get things we need back home. If Catcher finds out I was so careless…”

“Iza,” so, she was still putting blame on herself after all of these years. He’d hoped she’d broken herself of that bad habit. At least she wasn’t pulling her hair anymore. “This was not your fault.”

“You weren’t here,” she argued, voice going a bit rough. “You don’t know.”

“So tell me,” he watched the way she readjusted the boy in her arms; it must’ve been dreadfully hard to hold on so tight to one’s dead child like that. “Tell me what happened, Iza.”

“I cannot,” she shook her head, moving to get to her feet. “You’d only lecture me about my carelessness, too.”

“I am not your Master, Iza. I have no grounds to lecture you about anything.”

The brunette only shook her head more vigorously, taking a step towards the mouth of the alleyway.

“I need to go. Catcher deserves a chance to mourn before we put our son to rest.”

“Iza,” perhaps laying a hand on her was a mistake because the next thing he knew, Obi-Wan was being knocked off his feet by a rush of hot energy and slammed up against the far wall of the alley. _Yep_ —big mistake. Groaning as he rubbed his head, the Jedi huffed and stared at her through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “I see you haven’t changed much,”

“Neither have you.” Her voice was almost cold. “You still don’t understand the concept of _personal space_ , Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Iza, please,”

“I must go. I’m sorry I called you here.”

And just like that, she was gone. If he were still the man he’d been three years ago, he might’ve gotten back up and followed her. But Obi-Wan had learned the hard way with Iza that giving chase was a good way to get hurt. It was best if he just let her go—especially right now. She didn’t need him bombarding her with his presence when she had a child to grieve over. _Stars_ , he wished he’d been able to get answers as to what had happened, though. She seemed so ashamed of herself, moreso than she typically did when something went wrong under her watch. He suspected it had to do with the fact that this was her _child_ she’d failed, however. Any parent would blame themselves if harm came to the most precious thing in the galaxy to them.

“Master?”

The sound of Anakin’s voice brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up to find his former apprentice standing at the end of the alley, deep concern set into his features.

“Anakin,” using the wall to get to his feet, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the other man and tried not to rub at his sore back. “What are you doing here?”

“I sensed you were in distress,” the taller Jedi looked his Master over as if checking for visible injuries. “And Master Windu said you’d run out of the Temple like someone lit your robes on fire. He said I should go after you.”

“I’m fine, Anakin. Thank you.”

“What happened here?” Anakin was looking around now, blue eyes surveying the area slowly. “It looks like there was some sort of blaster-pistol fight.”

Realization struck Obi-Wan like a solid punch to the face. Iza’s child had gotten caught in the crossfire of some sort of crime that had happened here. _Where_ were the police droids? It dawned on him that they’d likely chased after whoever had shot her child and left her screaming for him in the streets. _Force_ , these droids needed their programming upgraded like nobody’s business.

“Master?”

“She was here,” he found himself saying, wondering if he should even be speaking of Iza at all. Obi-Wan hadn’t mentioned her in over three years outside of Anakin’s teasing. She needed to be brought up by someone else before he would talk about her, and it always caused a hollow sort of sensation in his chest to think about her for too long. “She was here, Anakin.”

“Iza, you mean?”

He nodded, running long fingers through his hair to try and push it back into place.

“Well, where did she go?” Ever the curious one after all this time, Anakin never knew when to stop asking questions.

Taking a deep breath to try and steel himself against the feelings building in his gut, Obi-Wan pushed them out on the exhale and didn’t meet Anakin’s gaze as he turned to walk out of the alley.

“I suppose she’s going home.” He hesitated, shutting his eyes against the memory of the brunette cradling her child in her arms. “She has a son to bury.”

~*~*~*~

“What do you want, Kenobi?” Mace Windu sounded bored as he stared out at Coruscant from his place in the garden, seemingly uninterested in conversation.

“Sir,” Obi-Wan didn’t know how to approach the subject of Iza with this man in the slightest. If anyone else had been more closed off about the girl than he was, it was Mace. “Surely you already know why I’m here.”

A sound like a scoff escaped the older man before he tipped his head towards a set of cushioned chairs nearby. Obi-Wan moved towards them first, seating himself and waiting patiently for the elder Master to join him. Neither man spoke for a few moments until Mace cleared his throat.

“Her pain woke me, too.”

“Sir?”

“I don’t know how many times I need to remind you that you are not the only one who shares a Bond with her, Kenobi.” Even as calm as he was, Windu’s tone was impatient. He hated having to repeat himself. “What happened?”

Pressing his lips together tightly, Obi-Wan rubbed at his beard and looked out over the city. “Her child.”

Mace’s brows went up high on his forehead, but he said nothing.

“I can’t get the image out of my head, Master Windu. The boy was so small, and she begged for my help. There was nothing I could do.”

Bringing a hand up to rub his chin, Windu seemed to be thinking hard about something. His dark eyes had a faraway sort of look to them and Obi-Wan wished he could peer in and see just what was on the other man’s mind.

“I didn’t sense a dark disturbance tonight,” the elder Jedi said finally.

“Sir, I _told_ you—”

“My memory is not as bad as yours, Master Kenobi.” Shooting the younger man a look, Mace snorted and appeared to roll his eyes a little. “I remember very well what it was you said to me that day. But still—I _wonder_ …”

“Wonder what, Master Windu?”

“If perhaps your assumption about her doing what was necessary to escape was inaccurate.” Squinting in thought, Mace worked his jaw and grunted. “Make no mistake—my former apprentice has turned away from the Order and the things I have taught her. But I have a strange feeling about this. If she had truly gone to the Dark Side, we would have felt her presence the moment she entered the atmosphere.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide in realization. So he’d been correct in thinking that Iza wasn’t Lost at all. That she still held a great deal of Light within her and that she still had a chance to be saved.

“You’re holding out hope for the wrong things, Obi-Wan,” Mace’s voice disturbed the overwhelming sense of elation that had started to fill him. “Iza Tacor is no longer a true Jedi. She wields Dark Force powers and does not stand for the same moral code you and I do.”

“She’s a _mother_ , Windu—”

“Which is precisely why she cannot return.”

“She named him after you.” _Oh boy_ , this was a tin of apple slugs he shouldn’t be opening. “Her son. His name was Mace.”

This seemed to silence the Master for quite some time and Obi-Wan sensed a _lot_ of different things radiating off of him. He knew better than to ask or to continue prodding at the man; he’d already done enough if it was taking this long for Mace Windu to balance himself out.

“I told you last time,” there was gruffness to the other man’s voice when he spoke again that Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he’d ever heard before. Getting up from his seat, Master Windu began to head towards the Temple. “Iza Tacor is _your_ responsibility, Obi-Wan. Proceed however you wish, just do not neglect your other duties.”

“Sir—”

Mace waved a hand.

“I will not give my blessing again, Kenobi.” He sounded like he was far away even though he was mere meters from where Obi-Wan sat. “Good night.”

As he watched the taller man leave, Obi-Wan wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t his place to tell Master Windu _anything_ about Iza’s life—or her child—but he’d wanted the man to _listen_. He’d wanted him to understand that there was more of a chance there to help her than he was willing to see. Maybe Mace Windu had given up on her, but Obi-Wan Kenobi could not.

Getting up from his spot on the cushion he headed into the Temple, but not to pursue the other Jedi. No, he’d taken a right turn after slipping inside of the doors and headed down into the communications chamber. There was a moment of slight hesitation before he tapped in a familiar set of contact numbers and an equally familiar face popped up on the holo-projector.

“General Kenobi?” Rex looked absolutely stunned to be receiving a transmission from his old friend. “How may I help you, sir?”

“I need a favor, Rex.” He wouldn’t get into titles right now. He had more pressing matters to tend to.

“Anything, sir,”

“I’d like for you to track someone down for me.”

~*~*~*~

Iza was a _mess_.

She and Catcher had both mourned hard over the loss of their son, but she couldn’t seem to drag herself away from the spot in their garden where they’d laid him to rest. For three days now, she’d slept in the freshly dug up dirt and refused to eat or drink anything. Even when it’d rained and soaked her clear through to the bone, she hadn’t left her spot. She just kept _hoping_ that she would wake up and see that little Mace was lying beside her with his sweet hazel eyes and that bright smile that reminded her so much of Catcher’s.

He’d never had a chance, and now she wasn’t sure they would get another.

“Little Bit,” Catcher’s voice was a quiet rumble in her ear as he nudged her shoulder to stir her awake. “My love, you need to eat something.”

“I can’t.” Turning over on the mud, she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes that hadn’t stopped crying since she’d brought her son back home.

The Clone tried not to sigh. He was hurting, too. He knew she knew that, knew she could feel it in his life-force whenever she reached across that strange link she’d asked to forge when they were married. It was such a weird thing to feel someone inside of his head at times, but Catcher was never one to deny Iza of what she wanted. Besides—he suspected they likely would’ve formed their own special link all on their own without help regardless of whether he was _Force Sensitive_ or not.

Palming her dirty cheek, he rubbed his thumb over the scar beneath her eye, noting how much it had faded these last few years.

“Please. For me?”

She looked like she wanted to continue protesting, her eyes closing as though to shut him out. After a few long moments, Iza drew in a shuddery breath and let it out in a sob, pulling herself up from the mud to wrap her arms around his shoulders and press her face against his neck. She knew that their son would not want her to continue to punish herself this way, but _stars_ —what else was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to atone for this sin? She had gotten her only child _killed_ with her carelessness and she should suffer for it. It should be _her_ inside of that grave, not her son.

If _only_ she hadn’t given up her lightsaber when she left, maybe little Mace would still be running and playing and filling his parents’ hearts with his beautiful laughter.

She hadn’t been fast enough when he ran off in the market. She thought he’d been right beside her, helping her pick the produce that they could not grow here. She’d heard the blaster shots and seen the familiar flashes of light as they got closer to where they’d been shopping. She’d dropped everything in her hands when she saw Mace standing in the middle of the walkpath, staring on curiously while people rushed past him in their panic. Time seemed to slow when she rushed to him, stopping entirely when he was knocked forward onto his belly. Had she not seen the bright red glow of the bolt that had hit him, she might’ve thought someone had simply tripped him. Violent flashbacks to seeing his father being struck the same way years prior had nearly put her into a state of shock.

But she couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t just leave him there to be trampled by these animals rushing to save themselves. It had taken so much of her control to keep from letting all of the boiling anger and disbelief to come to the surface. _So many people_ would’ve died if she’d let go of that control. She’d tried waking him, tried calling his name and putting all of that painful energy into her hands to heal him the way she’d done with Catcher, and when that hadn’t worked, she’d called out to Obi-Wan.

It had been almost instinctual to reach out along their lifeline to each other and beg him for help. She was still ashamed of herself for doing it; she had no right to ask him for anything after all of this time. But she’d been so sick and so shaken and desperate that she didn’t know what else to do.

Truthfully, she _still_ didn’t know what to do.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Catcher slipped his arms beneath her to carefully lift her from her place beside their son’s grave and carry her back into the house. “I’ve got you.”

Poor Catcher. She’d never seen him so broken before. He’d wept over Mace’s little body just as hard as she’d done, but never once had he pointed any fingers or asked why she hadn’t been watching him. He never questioned her capabilities as a mother or as a healer. Even he knew her Force powers had their limits. And he knew that if there’d been anything more that she could’ve done for their most precious miracle, she would have already tried it.

“Would you like a bath, my love?” he asked once he’d brought her inside, unwilling to set her on her feet. “You’re like ice.”

“I thought you wanted me to eat?” Iza murmured against his neck, too tired to protest against anything he planned to do with her.

“I would like very much for you to eat, yes.” Smiling a little, the Clone kissed the top of her head. “But I would also not like for my wife to freeze half to death.” _Again_.

“Will you join me?” She didn’t feel like being alone anymore.

Pausing on his way to their washroom, Catcher nuzzled his nose into her hair and nodded.

“Of course, my love. Anything you want.”


	2. My Ghosts Are Gaining on Me

A week went by and Iza, who’d been worried out of her mind that Obi-Wan might show up on her doorstep, was finally beginning to rest a little easier.

Well, as easy as a woman who’d lost her only child _could_ rest.

Catcher was a big help, just as he always had been. The two of them supported each other like no one else could: taking turns with their good and bad days and giving the space needed to grieve as equally as possible. Some days were harder than others, but they’d been at each other’s sides for so long that it was second nature for them to take care of one another. They could not let this loss tear them apart the way it might do to some other folk. They could try again when they were ready, if they wanted to. But they seemed to both silently agree that would not be for a _very_ long time.

Iza had been in the middle of her daily meditation—something she’d never been able to fully give up—when she heard the familiar sound of a personal cruiser ship coming in hot overhead. Green eyes snapped open to watch the bird fly by, but she didn’t move from her spot as she tried to identify just who might be aboard the ship.

“ _Catcher_ ,” she called, making her husband poke his head out from the back door.

“Yeah?”

“We’ve got a visitor.” Giving him a look as if to ask whether or not he had something to do with it, she got a confused shrug in return and moved to get to her feet. Dusting the grass from her trousers, Iza’s eyes followed the cruiser as it made a U-turn in the sky and looked for a place to set down. _Stars above_ , didn’t people understand the meaning of _privacy?_

“What do you want me to do?” Catcher was already by her side, ready to take whatever action she deemed necessary.

“Go get the ale out of the basement,” she’d given an affectionate pat to his chest and smiled faintly when he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Our guest would probably enjoy a little bit of home brew, don’t you think?”

Nodding, the Clone cast a quick look to the ship that had gently set down in the middle of their fields before he went back inside, leaving Iza to wander out and greet whoever happened to be inside.

The brunette was cautious as she approached, taking in the details of the ship to see if she could recognize where it’d come from. It seemed to be an old model leftover from the days of the Clone Wars, but the symbols of the Republic’s Grand Army had been painted over with blue stripes. She felt no Force signature coming from inside—just the same light pulse she usually detected around non-sensitives—so at least there weren’t any Jedi to worry about. Thank the stars for that. She was trying to live as neutral of a life as possible these days, but she wasn’t above calling upon some very dark things in order to keep those people off of her doorstep.

Stopping a few meters away when the loading ramp opened and began to descend, Iza tilted her head in an effort to see who might be coming out and found herself taking a full step back as Captain Rex came into view.

“ _Catcher!_ ”

She heard a crash from inside and her husband was at her side again within seconds, protective hands grasping at her hips to pull her to him while he searched for the threat.

“Iza, what—” he stopped when she pulled out of his grasp and gave a solid push to his chest, staring down at her with wide eyes. It was rare that she ever got angry with him; they had their silly little spats the same way any couple did, but he hadn’t seen a fire in her eyes like this since the days of the War.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Pointing behind her to where Rex had stopped his descent, Iza almost curled her lip at him. “You _promised_ me—”

“Catcher is not at fault, madam.” _Well_ , that was certainly a strange thing to hear coming out of Rex’s mouth. He’d never addressed her as anything other than _General Tacor_ or _Sir_. “I was asked to locate you by an old friend.”

_Obi-Wan, you **bastard**._

Running her hand over the place where she’d pushed against Catcher’s chest, she looked up at him in silent apology and was met with one of his reassuring smiles. He was too good for her; he always had been. With a shake of her head, she turned back to face Rex and pressed back against her husband in an almost protective manner. She wasn’t afraid of Rex—she had no reason to be—but she didn’t trust a single damn person they’d left behind. Catcher could _still_ be reprimanded for having bowed out of the war; she would take no chances that the man was here to take him away from her or use him as leverage to get him to go along with him. Force knew what sort of tactics Obi-Wan was willing to employ in order to make her comply.

“He’s not welcome here,” she said firmly, watching the blond nod like he already knew this.

“Oh, I’m fully aware.” Letting out a chuckle, Rex rubbed at the back of his neck. “Trouble is—I’m not sure he’s going to take _no_ for an answer, madam.”

“Well he doesn’t have a kriffing choice.”

“Sweetheart,” resting a hand against her lower back, Catcher rubbed slowly as if to soothe her. “You’re getting angry at the wrong man.”

 _Stars_ , why did he have to be so damn good at getting her to calm down? If there was anyone in the galaxy who could ever coax Iza’s Dark Side into kicking gravel _permanently_ , it was Catcher. Exhaling harshly through her nose, the brunette folded her arms over her chest and lowered her gaze to the grass beneath their feet.

“You’ll have to beg our pardon, sir,” _no, Catcher. **Don’t.**_ “We’re in mourning.”

“Mourning?” A brow went up high on the other Clone’s head, his gaze shifting from Catcher to Iza and back again.

“I’m going to go clean up whatever it is you dropped,” Iza said quietly, breaking away to go inside. The last thing she needed was to start crying in front of Catcher’s old superior officer. “Come inside when you’re ready.”

“Of course, love,” watching her go, the Clone looked as though he suddenly regretted saying anything at all. It was only when she’d gotten inside the house that he turned back to Rex, smiling tightly. “Sir,”

“You’re looking healthy.” Rex commented, looking his Brother over.

“She takes good care of me. The surroundings don’t hurt, either.”

“Alderaan is an interesting place to settle. Last I checked you two were still on Cerea. Maybe it’s been too long since I popped in.”

Catcher looked surprised to see that his Brother had been keeping tabs on his whereabouts. Glancing over his shoulder towards the house, he was about to warn him not to say anything to Iza when Rex laughed and waved a hand.

“Don’t look so spooked. I wasn’t _spying_. I try to keep up with as many of you bucketheads as I can.”

“Right,” nodding, he breathed a little easier and then realized he was still receiving an expectant look from the other Clone. Of course; he’d gone and opened his mouth. How had he forgotten already? “We… lost our son recently, sir. It’s been hard for both of us, but Iza… blames herself.”

The silence was deafening and uncomfortable and the Clone almost wished he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t owe any sort of explanation to anyone; but Rex was a Brother. If no one else, he would understand the difficulty of the loss. Trooper or not, Catcher knew Rex took every death of his men personally. It was part of the reason he worked so damn hard to protect as many of them as possible. _No Clone left behind_.

“I’m deeply sorry for your loss, Catcher.” Rex sounded more sincere than Catcher had ever heard him. “I’m sure he was a fine boy.”

This made Catcher smile painfully, his eyes looking everywhere but at the man standing before him. It wasn’t that he felt ashamed to cry in front of the man he once saw as his leader—more like a big Brother honestly, if he could have ever called him that. It just hurt so _damn_ much to think about his son. He hadn’t been gone barely a week and the house was just so _empty_ without his little voice. Catcher had tripped on one of his toys just the other day and nearly had a breakdown over it. Thank the Force that Iza hadn’t been home. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if she had to witness him crumble into a billion little pieces like that.

The solid clamp of a hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts and Catcher found a pair of brown eyes _so similar_ to his own staring back at him. There was a reassuring squeeze given, and Rex looked like the sorriest man in the universe.

“There is no shame in what you’re feeling, brother,” he spoke quietly, like the words were only meant for the two of them to hear. “I’m sure your wife has already told you this, but I feel like it might help hearing it from someone else too.”

“Thank you, sir,” it hurt to speak, but he felt like clearing his throat would defeat the purpose of Rex’s words.

Another solid pat was given to Catcher’s shoulder before Rex dropped his hand and peered around him to look at the house. _Well_ , his Brother had certainly done well for himself. Alderaan was not a cheap place to live, and he hadn’t received any sort of paperwork asking for the same compensation payout that the other Clones had gotten. He would know if he’d seen paperwork for a Trooper with a _full_ name cross his desk.

“Sir,” finally having gathered himself, Catcher gestured towards the house. “I hate to rush you, but I feel as though Iza might grow suspicious if we stand out here much longer.”

“She said you’d promised her something. What was it?” Clearly, Rex was not through with asking questions Iza would not approve of.

A hesitant, sheepish sort of look crossed Catcher’s face and he dropped his eyes to his feet.

“It isn’t anything we didn’t promise _each other_ , just that we wouldn’t chase the ghosts from our pasts.”

That brow went up again, but Rex didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place to. Clearly Catcher and Iza were dealing with enough sorrows; he wasn’t going to pile more on with telling him what he’d been told by General Kenobi.

“Catch?”

 _Ah_ —time was up.

“Coming, Little Bit,” casting a look over at Rex, Catcher smirked and let out a soft snort of laughter as he shook his head and gave a wave of his hand. “We should definitely hurry. She’ll come out here if we don’t.”

“I’m not in the business of upsetting anyone’s wife,” Rex muttered, moving to follow the other Clone into the house. Upon stepping inside, he noticed that something smelled fantastic. It beat the hell out of the fast food and late-night takeout he tended to get for himself back home. Sheesh, maybe he ought to settle down and snag himself a wife.

“Captain, your boots,” Iza’s voice was pleasant as she gestured to Rex’s feet. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“Not at all.” Looking for somewhere to sit so he could remove his shoes, Rex shot her a look from the corner of his eye and smirked faintly. “You’re free to call me Rex, you know. _Both_ of you.”

“Oh— _now_ you want to stop being formal.” A laugh escaped the brunette as she leaned against Catcher, who wrapped an arm around her waist in turn. “Only took you three years, _Rex_.”

Setting his boots beside the shoes already sitting out next to the mat, the Clone turned to the two and was waved into the lounge area where Iza poured them all a glass of _something_ from a dark bottle. He thanked her when she’d handed his glass to him and spent another moment looking around before his attention was brought back to the exiled Jedi.

“What does he want?” She wasn’t going to pull punches, was she? “If this is about what happened on Coruscant, it was a mistake. I’ve no desire to see or to talk to that man again, so whatever he sent you here for—”

“What happened on Coruscant?” _Stars_. She’d forgotten that she hadn’t told Catcher.

Biting down on her bottom lip, Iza suddenly looked very guilty and took a sip of her drink just to give herself something to do before she answered him.

“It was a moment of weakness, my love,” she said, leaning on him even more. “I did not mean to call to him. I just… he was _dying_. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t mean to break our promise.”

Catcher appeared to be thinking about something rather hard for a moment before he let out a sigh and dropped a kiss to the top of his wife’s head, lingering there as his arm went around her shoulders to pull her in closer.

“I would do the same, sweetheart.” _Anything_ for their little boy.

“General Kenobi has asked me to find you, Iza,” Rex would not interfere in whatever exchange was going on between the two sitting across from him. Their private matters were not his business. “I, however, took an oath to keep you two off the radar for as long as I could. But feel I should at least _warn_ you that even if I don’t bring him news of your whereabouts, there are others he can call upon who will.”

“ _Why?_ What the hell does he want with her?” Catcher asked, looking confused.

“That I can’t tell you. I’ve got no idea.”

Well _that_ was fantastic.

“I have a good damn idea of what he wants,” Iza muttered, taking another long sip of the ale in her glass. “You can tell him I personally said he can stuff his lightsaber up his—”

“ _Iza,_ ” Catcher nudged her and shot her a look, one that was met with a scowl in return.

“I will _not_ have anything to do with that man anymore, Catcher. I’ve told you a hundred times. I no longer hold ties to the Jedi or their stupid Code.”

“Nobody knows that better than I do, sweetheart,” calloused fingers gently pinched her chin to keep her from turning away from him. “But perhaps…”

“ _No_.” _Stars’ End_ , she couldn’t believe he was suggesting that she actually try and find out what it is that the man wanted. “I refuse.”

“He _will_ find us, you realize?”

Brushing Catcher’s hand away from her face so she could finish off her drink, Iza shrugged a shoulder and set the glass back down on the table.

“ _Let him_.”

~*~*~*~

“Really? Are you sure, Rex?” Obi-Wan frowned as he eyed the floating neon blue hologram in front of him. “How long ago did they go off-world?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, sir,” Rex gave a shrug of his shoulders. “The planet officials were only able to tell me when they arrived, not when they left.”

Letting out a soft _hm_ of frustration, the Jedi rubbed a finger across his bearded chin and sighed in defeat. “All right, thank you for trying. I do appreciate it, Rex.”

“Anytime, sir,” After giving a salute, the hologram of Rex disappeared from view, leaving Obi-Wan to ponder his next move.

He had a sneaking suspicion that perhaps the old Trooper Captain was hiding something from him—the Clones were far more loyal to each other than people gave them credit for—but if he did indeed know where Iza was, it was also highly probable that the woman had influenced his mind. Perhaps he needed to start calling around to some old contacts and see whether or not there had been any recent immigration registrations under Iza and Catcher’s names.

He pinched the bridge of his nose at the idea of the headache all of that work would be. Sure, the system in the library would be able to tell him what he needed to know, but that would also take much longer than he wanted it to. If only he could think of _something_ , or _someone_ he could send out to locate her. _Force_ , what had made him believe that this was going to be easy? Nothing was easy when it came to that girl.

“You look like you’re having a fun night, Master,” Anakin’s chuckle filled the room as the younger man strolled in, taking a seat in one of the chairs and propping his feet up on the edge of the communication console.

“Not now, Anakin,” shaking his head, Obi-Wan drummed his fingers against the top of his thigh and struggled to come up with a plan that was better than him planet hopping until he found Iza.

“Is it that serious?” Anakin’s tone changed with his expression, blue eyes fixing on his Master’s face. “What’s happened?”

“It’s about what _hasn’t_ happened,” he shouldn’t have sounded so frustrated, but he honestly had no other available emotion for the moment.

“And what would that be?”

Looking to his former apprentice as if mulling over whether or not he wanted to let him in on what he was doing, Obi-Wan waved his hand in defeat.

“I can’t find her. I asked Rex to check the last world they were known to inhabit and they’re not there.”

“Is that it?”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Obi-Wan could understand why Anakin might take the situation lightly on _his_ end, but he could at least try to treat this as more than a joke.

“They’re on Alderaan.” He said it so casually, as if it was just common knowledge. “Ahsoka said she saw Iza a few months back when she was there for an errand she ran for Master Yoda. Where was it Rex said they had been before?”

“Cerea,” the older man’s features were neutral enough, but he held a sense of disbelief in his chest he couldn’t quite will away. How many times had he been to Alderaan in the last year or so without realizing that Iza was on the same planet? “Anakin, did Ahsoka say _where_ on Alderaan?”

“She said she saw her in Aldera, but only for a minute.” After a pause, Anakin let out a small laugh. “Alderaan’s kind of a funny place for a Dark Jedi to go, isn’t it? They’re pacifists over there, aren’t they?”

“Yes they are…” nodding as he got out of his chair, Obi-Wan went over to the holoprojector and tapped a few things, bringing up an image of the planet. As he stood there watching it slowly rotate, his eyes found the pulsing dot where the main city was located and began to zoom in for coordinates. “Would you do me a favor, Anakin? I would like to borrow your Padawan for a short while…”

~*~*~*~

The fashion sense of the Alderaanians had always appealed to Iza’s eyes and for the last two years it had slowly been making its way into her personal wardrobe. She’d been stuck in the Jedi mindset for a long time after she and Catcher had been granted their escape, still wearing plain-colored clothes that were more practical than they were fashionable. But now that she had the freedom to choose between beautiful colors and styles, she often took a small portion of the money they made from their homemade goods and spoiled herself.

Today she was admiring the intricate patterns of gold thread stitched into an amethyst colored gown that was a _little_ out of her price range, wondering if she’d ever be able to feel comfortable in something made of so little material. There were times when she’d see a dress that looked like it’d come from Ryloth that both drew her in and sent a strange sense of repulsion straight to her gut. It seemed silly for her to have reservations about how much skin her clothing showed these days, but sometimes the feeling was so strong that it left her unbearably uncomfortable. Sometimes she wondered if there was something she’d lost in her memory during her training; Master Windu was very adamant about _letting go_ of negative things. But what would any of that have to do with a dress?

“That’s pretty,”

A disturbingly familiar feminine voice set her nerves on edge and Iza had to hold back the urge to strike out. _Pacifism_ was the number one guideline here; that was half the reason they’d chosen Alderaan. It made it easier to deal with the things inside of her. Steeling herself, Iza straightened her back and drew in a deep breath, pretending to be more interested in the dress than the woman who’d managed to sneak up on her.

“Yes it is,” her tone was flat, though there was a _hint_ of displeasure hidden in there somewhere. “What do you want, Ahsoka?”

“I can’t say _hello?_ ” The girl sounded sad and it made something in Iza’s chest ache a little. Ahsoka had never done anything but be a good friend to her; she’d always sat with her on the nights that were the hardest without Catcher, never once judged her even when she’d started breaking away from the Code her Master had drilled so deeply into her head. She reminded Iza a lot of Anakin in some ways, but there was more Light in Ahsoka than there was in Anakin. She wondered if the Togruta had figured that out for herself yet.

“I suppose there’s no harm in it,” yes there was. There was a lot of harm in letting ghosts back in. Iza and Catcher had worked so hard to break away from their old lives and build up this new one together. _Ghosts_ would only hinder them.

“Will you say _hello_ back?”

Shutting her eyes with a heavy sigh, Iza wanted to refuse. If she turned around and looked at the girl, she would start feeling those old feelings again. She already had her suspicions that this was not just some random, friendly encounter. This _reeked_ of Obi-Wan’s doing and if she ever saw him again, she would Force choke him until the life bled from those pretty blue eyes of his.

But she couldn’t deny Ahsoka when she hadn’t done anything wrong. The girl had clearly been used as some sort of pawn in this—just as Rex had been. Iza wondered if she knew what she was doing here. Had Obi-Wan explained that she was looking for Iza in order to bring her to him? He wasn’t half as secretive about his motives as Master Windu was, but Obi-Wan had tricks up his sleeve that most wouldn’t be able to see coming. But she knew; she knew because she had those same tricks. He could preach the Code until he was blue in the face, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was no damned saint. Not in the least.

Turning, Iza was startled to find just how much Ahsoka had grown in the last couple of years. She was taller—her montrals had gotten taller as well—and she looked more like a woman than she had the last time she’d seen her. It was almost so shocking to her that Iza felt tears start to spring into her eyes that she had to quickly beat back. She looked just as lively as ever; the war certainly hadn’t dampened that bright spirit of hers at all, had it?

“Hi,” smiling wide, Ahsoka waved and for a moment, Iza caught sight of that little teenage Padawan she’d known so long ago.

“Hi,” this was too much. The sounds of the market were all blending into one loud rush of sound that made her ears ring and just when she thought she might pass out, Ahsoka’s arms were wrapping around her in a tight hug.

She broke in that moment, half-sagging into the other girl as she hugged her back as hard as she could without hurting her. The tears she’d been trying so desperately to keep to herself began flooding her cheeks, soaking into the fabric of Ahsoka’s cloak. _This_ was what she’d wanted to avoid. This painful sensation of having missed someone she’d tried so hard to forget about. She’d felt it when she was back on Coruscant and faced Obi-Wan in her moment of desperation, and again when Rex had decided to drop in for his warning visit. What was next? Was Master Windu just going to pop in for tea and to play catch-up?

 _Stars above_ , for a man who presented himself as the poster boy for the Order, Obi-Wan certainly had some very dark ways of getting what he wanted.

“Hey,” the hand petting her hair was just as gentle as the voice in her ear. “Iza, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” Pulling away, the brunette hastily dragged the back of her wrist over her eyes and moved to try and walk away. The poor shopkeeper didn’t need to see her losing her mind over this reunion. “It’s _not_ okay, Ahsoka. He’s _using_ you. Obi-Wan is _using_ you to get to me.”

“What?” The Padawan looked confused for a minute as she followed after the exiled Jedi. “Master Kenobi? No he isn’t. Anakin asked me to come.”

_Oh, **that** was even better._

“Ahsoka,” her shoulders sagged as she looked back at her friend. “Anakin is not the one interested in finding me.”

“Then why didn’t Master Kenobi come instead?”

A bark of laughter followed the question and she wondered how the girl could be so naïve. She knew she ought to be a little more lenient with her—Ahsoka likely had no idea what was going on behind the scenes—but she was becoming so frustrated with this whole situation that she couldn’t help it.

“Because he’s a damned coward, that’s why,” her lip curled lightly as she said it, baring her teeth in a vicious manner. “Sending a Padawan to do his job for him? Using old friends to worm his way back into our lives? It _reeks_ of manipulation, Ahsoka. His Dark Side is showing—take it from someone who knows theirs _very well_.”

“Master Kenobi doesn’t have—”

“He’d like for you to believe that. He’d like for all of you to believe that he’s Mr. Perfect Jedi Knight. But none of you have seen the things I’ve seen in that man’s head.” Tapping the side of her temple, Iza turned like she was going to leave, only to have Ahsoka take hold of her arm. It took a _lot_ of restraint for her not to shove her off; she was home now, and could not behave as poorly as she’d done on Coruscant. She also wasn’t sure she could ever use that sort of power against Ahsoka without feeling incredibly guilty about it.

“What are you talking about?” Ahsoka seemed more curious than defensive now. The grip she had on Iza’s arm loosened until she eventually let go, almost like she’d realized how hard she’d been holding onto her. For a long moment, the two women only stared at each other in silence. A silence that was broken by another one of Iza’s heavy, relenting sighs.

“Come on,” waving a hand for Ahsoka to follow her, she started to walk away from the crowded area. The last thing she needed was someone hearing her speaking _blasphemous_ words about one of the galaxy’s most beloved Jedi. Besides, it would give her time to center herself and get her anger back in check. Talking about Obi-Wan was going to make her mad enough; she didn’t need to go into a full on rage fit over it in front of Ahsoka.

When she’d deemed them to be far enough away, Iza found a place for them to sit and gestured for the younger woman to settle down beside her.

“I hope you understand that this must stay between us, Padawan Ahsoka,” she said in a serious tone, her green eyes leveling with Ahsoka’s own dark blue.

“I understand.” A solemn nod was given in return, Ahsoka’s features just as serious.

“Good. Because I would hate to see what Obi-Wan might do if he knew that _someone else_ knew how many times he’s been to the Edge and back again.”


	3. You Know That I Know

Ahsoka had spent the entirety of her journey back to Coruscant going over the things that Iza had told her. There was a very large part of her that wanted to be skeptical about it all, too. She’d known Master Obi-Wan for a long time now and had never sensed a single ounce of Darkness within him. Sure, there had been times where he seemed to have _reactions_ to things most Jedi would have brushed off—but that did not mean he was in danger of giving in to the Dark Side. If that were the case, then Ahsoka’s own master would be in far more danger of Falling than Obi-Wan with the way that he behaved at times.

But Iza had made a very convincing argument. The man who was known to negotiate his way into and out of situations that most would be stuck to ponder solutions to seemed to have just a little _too_ much good luck in that area. He was a good leader, a great Jedi Master, but he also pulled strings that no one else could see. Like this. Ahsoka had been approached by Anakin to seek Iza out for a welfare check. It’d been three years and nobody had heard from the pair of runaways aside from the _one_ sighting, and they’d just lost their child—something Ahsoka had not been able to bring herself to talk to Iza about. It seemed logical to want to make sure that they were doing okay. She’d sensed no ulterior motives because it had been Anakin who asked, not Obi-Wan. Her Master would have more sincerity in his heart over the matter.

_He’s using you, Ahsoka._

Iza’s words echoed in her head long after she’d gotten back to the Temple, avoiding contact with anyone as she went straight to her room to meditate. The last thing she needed was for anyone to detect any sort of doubt within her.

“Heya Snips, back already?”

 _Damn_.

Putting her thoughts on the back burner for the time being, Ahsoka looked over her shoulder to see Anakin coming up with that expectant look he always wore whenever she came back from an assignment. He wasn’t going to give her time to push this all out of her head, was he? The information needed to be fresh in her mind so he could relay it all back to Obi-Wan.

“Master,” she pulled the mask of normality on like it was second nature. Something she’d learned from _him_. “Uh— _yeah_. Iza wasn’t exactly happy to see me.”

Anakin frowned. For a moment, she thought he might be trying to read her for any abnormalities in her Force energy, but Ahsoka had gotten really good at hiding things from him. It felt shameful to do it, so she tried to keep it to special circumstances.

“That’s unfortunate,” he said finally, looking disappointed. Whether it was the situation or _her_ he was disappointed with, Ahsoka wasn’t sure. His brow furrowed suddenly and Ahsoka worried she’d been caught. “She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

 _Thank the Force_.

“No,” it was probably the most honest thing she’d have to tell him today. “It was really weird, actually. I’ve… felt the Darkness in people before, Master. But I didn’t feel it in her the same way.” Okay, maybe she’d be a little more honest than she thought.

“Explain that to me,” Anakin folded his arms over his chest and studied her hard.

Pressing her lips together in a thin line as she tried to figure out how she wanted to put feelings to words, Ahsoka gave a slow shake of her head. Dark blue eyes lifted to meet her Master’s and she shrugged.

“It was _there_. I sensed it. But…” turning her hands up briefly, she let her arms fall at her sides. “No more than I would in a normal person. Like someone just walking around in the city.”

“She’s learned Balance?”

“I’m not sure,” she hoped she wasn’t betraying Iza by speaking so openly about this. Truthfully, it had confused her quite a bit when she’d taken notice of just how _grey_ everything had felt around the other woman. There was no more Darkness than there was Light within her. “Is there even such a thing for a Force user, Master?”

Anakin made a face like he didn’t know any more than she did. Waving his cybernetic arm in a gesture of uncertainty, he rubbed his fingers against his chin and frowned harder.

“I guess it wouldn’t be _impossible_ ,” he murmured, beginning to pace slowly in a line beside his Padawan. “Master Windu would be an example of that, I think. His interpretation of _balance_ is a little… **off** , but he makes it work.”

“Do you think that maybe Iza’s taking after him? She was his Apprentice, after all.”

Holding a finger up as he paused in his steps, Anakin pivoted and smiled at Ahsoka before wagging the finger lightly.

“I think you might be on to something there, Snips. It makes a lot of sense that Iza would be able to achieve True Balance because of Windu.”

“So—you’ll tell Master Kenobi to leave her alone, then?” _Whoops_.

Anakin’s thoughtful expression changed in an instant to one of surprise, then mild guilt, settling on disapproval. Ahsoka suddenly wished she’d stayed on Alderaan a little longer. Maybe it would’ve given her time to _think_ about what she was going to say to her Master.

“Who said anything about Master Kenobi?”

She didn’t answer.

“ _Ahsoka_ ,”

“Why did you ask me to go see Iza, Master?” Perhaps it was best to just be up front with him. Ahsoka and Anakin had never done well when lying to each other. She wouldn’t reveal any of the things Iza had told her, but she felt she deserved to hear _some_ sort of truth from the older man.

“I told you this when you asked me before, Ahsoka. It was about time someone checked up on them. Especially after—”

“Then why didn’t _you_ go? Or Master Obi-Wan? Why did you ask _me_ to do it when I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her?”

Now he looked as though he didn’t know what to say to her, like he was mulling over the perfect answer to give without having to lie about it; funny how he hadn’t learned to keep a good poker face around her after all this time.

“Ahsoka, the situation is complicated,” he said finally, sounding as though he was being very careful about his choice of words. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m not a child anymore, Master,” her words bit into Anakin’s argument and tore it right in half. “I want the truth.”

“Yeah,” letting out an almost defeated sigh, Anakin looked back over his shoulder towards where Obi-Wan’s quarters were and ground his teeth lightly. “Me too, Snips.”

~*~*~*~

“It was nice to see Ahsoka,” Catcher mused as he joined Iza on their sofa.

“ _Hm_.” Iza leaned over to cuddle into his side, resting her head in her favorite spot on his chest. “I agree. Even if her visit wasn’t of her own will, it’s good to see she’s doing well.”

“She’s _tall_ ,” letting out a short laugh, the Clone rubbed the back of his neck. “She’ll be taller than me, soon. I didn’t know Togrutas got that tall.”

“They can be taller,” Iza’d learned that from her Jedi studies _and_ her sparse run-ins with the Jedi Master Shaak Ti. Then again, most people were taller than Iza. “I’m glad Anakin is taking good care of her.”

“Did you expect anything less? Anakin was always very…”

“Fatherly?” Looking up, Iza smiled and got one in return.

“Yeah,”

“Comes with the territory of being a Master to a Padawan. Take Master Windu for example,” picking up one of Catcher’s hands, Iza began to play with his fingers, shutting her eyes with another soft smile as he kissed the side of her head. “You know what that man was like on the outside. He had a look that could strip the bolts from a battle droid. But,” turning Catcher’s hand over, she stroked along the inside of his palm thoughtfully, “Tough as he was, he had a very kind heart. His trust had been misplaced when he was younger, I think, and he built walls. But he was a good man. A good father.”

As if sensing the tremor that had threatened to weasel its way into his wife’s voice, Catcher closed his fingers around hers and kissed the scar adorning her cheek. He knew how hard it was for her to discuss Master Windu after leaving the Order. Sometimes he could even feel the sense of shame that washed over her when she spoke of him so highly. Her failure to become the _good_ Jedi Knight he’d hoped her to be haunted her so deeply that she’d had nightmares for months after their escape. Every now and then, he’d catch her crying in her sleep and would get no explanation upon waking her.

That was fine. Iza was allowed to keep her sorrows to herself if she felt she needed to.

“I’m scared, Catch,” she said after a while, her voice barely a whisper. It made him tense up beside her and hold her a little closer, nosing at her hair in silent curiosity. He wouldn’t have to ask out loud for clarification. “What if Obi-Wan sends Master Windu next?”

“Do you think he would sink that low, Little Bit?”

The laugh she let out was sharp and bitter, but when Iza shifted around beside him, it was only to settle in his lap. She’d feel safer if she were properly curled up against him.

“I _know_ he would. I’ve seen things in him that no one else has.” Tucking her head beneath her husband’s chin, Iza shut her eyes again when he started rubbing a hand along her arm. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s his fault that all of this happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“My Fall,” opening her eyes again, she looked out of the window across from them and frowned lightly. “I wonder if I wasn’t _pushed_.”

Catcher knew better than to argue with Iza over _anything_ regarding Obi-Wan. They would only run around in circles for hours until she put her foot down and insisted that what she said was right. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he could dispute some of the things she told him. She _did_ have access to the man’s innermost thoughts, after all. And there’d been things she’d told him about those thoughts that had set his blood boiling, too. He’d already had his suspicions from the beginning that the Jedi Master held some sort of _affections_ for his wife; to have them confirmed was enough to make him want to go off-world and knock the sense out of the man sometimes.

And then she would say things like this and make suggestions that Obi-Wan was hiding his true nature beneath a picture-perfect façade. Those were the times that made him unsure. Perhaps his wife was just projecting her own Dark Side onto the man to place blame? _No_. Iza was a master at pointing the finger at herself; if she were putting blame on someone else, it was for a reason. It just didn’t sit well with him that a man like that would be able to hide his inner turmoil from an entire organization of people conditioned to sense such things.

“Enough of this conversation,” Iza’s voice was soft, as were the lips she pressed to the side of his neck. “I don’t want to think about him anymore.”

“And what, my sweet Little Bit, would you like to think about?” Oh—he had a pretty good idea.

“You,” there she went with those teeth, tugging at his earring in a way that made his whole soul want to growl like some kind of primal beast. He was helpless to keep the sound from escaping when she nipped his neck next and snickered in his ear, “Specifically, you without this tunic on,”

“I’ll take it off,” _stars_ , he’d do damn near anything if she kept that up. “But only if you go first.”

~*~*~*~

“For the last time Anakin, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Obi-Wan was becoming more and more frustrated the longer this went on. He’d been hoping that Ahsoka would come back from Alderaan with more information than she had, but now it seemed as though both she _and_ his former apprentice were in cahoots to prevent him from learning anything new about Iza and her whereabouts.

“That’s a load of bantha dung and you know it,” Ahsoka huffed from where she stood in the corner, eyeing Obi-Wan warily. “Just tell us why you _really_ want to bring Iza back here, Master Kenobi.”

“ _Anakin_ ,” giving the taller man the same look he always did when he needed him to reel the Padawan in, he was a little surprised when he was met with a look similar to the one Ahsoka wore. A cloud of mistrust hung heavy in the room and threatened to choke the life out of him if he didn’t start telling them what they wanted to know, but Obi-Wan was hesitant. It wasn’t as though his intentions were _bad;_ he’d just wanted to keep this to himself and not get them involved. Sinking into a chair, he dragged his fingers through his ever-growing hair and gave the tiniest of tugs to the ends. “All right— _fine_.”

Seemingly satisfied, Anakin sat down across from him and gave an expectant look. He wasn’t going to give his Master any time to think up a lie. He couldn’t barge in on his thoughts the same way Iza could—strange how that was, really—so he had to rush him in order to keep him honest.

“My plans are not nefarious, despite what the two of you might think.” Shifting his gaze between Anakin and Ahsoka, Obi-Wan looked _very_ annoyed having to explain himself. “I simply want to _help_ her.”

“Help her how?” _Boy_ , had Ahsoka taken after her Master; her attempts at interrogation were eerily similar to Anakin’s and he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or not.

“I just want to bring her back into the Light.”

“She’s found balance, according to Ahsoka.” Gesturing to his Padawan, Anakin leaned back in his seat, carelessly rocking the chair up onto its back legs. “Why would you want to disrupt that?”

“Balance?” this was news to him. Obi-Wan certainly hadn’t felt any sort of _balance_ when she’d Force pushed him into the back wall of the alley.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” staring at the toes of her boots, the young woman frowned deep in thought. “But if we’re going to put this in _Light_ and _Dark_ perspective, Iza’s in the middle. The grey area.”

“Impossible,” Obi-Wan scoffed with a laugh. “No Force user has ever truly achieved balance. The grey area doesn’t exist.”

“What about Master Windu?”

“Master Windu… has a very _peculiar_ method to the way he chooses to use the Force. I’ll grant you that.” But he wouldn’t give an inch more. “Even still, I doubt Iza has achieved even _his_ level of control. It was a ruse, Ahsoka.”

“I’ll have you know that my Padawan is _very_ capable of sensing the strength of the Force in others, Master,” _oh boy_ , did it burn Anakin up inside when people doubted the capabilities of his apprentice. Probably even more than it bothered Ahsoka. “If Ahsoka said she’s in the grey— _Iza’s in the grey._ ”

Again, Obi-Wan’s eyes shifted between the two Jedi in front of him and he couldn’t help feeling as though they were backing him into a corner. He knew he was out of line for speaking ill about Ahsoka’s capabilities; the girl was indeed very in tune with her senses and could seek out things that neither he nor Anakin could find at times. But neither of them knew what he knew. Neither of them had ever felt the things he’d felt within Iza during her worst moments before the Fall. The day she’d finally gone over, when she’d fully snapped and called upon powers she never should’ve touched—Obi-Wan had been made to feel every last ounce of it.

What he _didn’t_ know, was how she’d managed to influence their perceptions from so far away like this. They seemed to view him as the bad guy now, as if his actions would be more harmful than helpful. Anakin hadn’t even been in her presence yet and here he was, questioning Obi-Wan as though he’d committed some atrocious crime just by suggesting that maybe Ahsoka’s intuition was wrong. This wasn’t right; it wasn’t right _at all_.

“I apologize,” he said slowly, only getting stares in return. “It is not my place to assume that I know what you felt, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka said nothing. She just folded her arms over her chest and looked elsewhere in the room. If her opinion wasn’t going to be valued, then she didn’t want to give any further input.

“I think you should go have a look for yourself, Master.” Anakin still sounded annoyed and it showed when he brought the chair back down on its legs with a solid _thud_. “If you won’t trust Ahsoka’s word, then you don’t need to send her back. You may no longer ask her to run your damn errands for you. She has more important things to do with her time.”

Both eyebrows shot up high on Obi-Wan’s head as he watched Anakin rise to his feet and usher Ahsoka out of the room. He hadn’t stopped staring even after the door had shut behind them, far too baffled that he’d been spoken to like that. Sure, Anakin had his moments sometimes and of course he could relate to wanting to defend his Padawan, but Obi-Wan felt as though they’d both just knocked him in the stomach and left him lying on the floor of the communications room.

 _Well_ , that was strike two, wasn’t it? He supposed he could pull out the not-so-secret weapon in his artillery, but somehow he felt as though that might backfire even more than this had. It seemed that the closer someone was to Iza, the harder they fought back against his quest to help her. It only made sense that he’d need to send someone she _didn’t_ like this time around.

Which meant that he needed to go talk to a man about borrowing a cruiser.

~*~*~*~

Iza rocketed out of bed with a startled holler, landing crouched on the floor with wild eyes while Catcher sat up and looked around frantically, trying to find the source of her terror.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” he asked groggily, crawling across the mattress to try and pull her back up.

“He’s coming,” _Stars_ , she was shaking like a leaf. “I can feel it, Catcher.”

“Who, Little Bit?” try as he might to get her to calm down, no amount of petting her face or reassuring squeezes seemed to help.

“Obi-Wan,” as her breathing started to even out, Iza’s head turned this way and that like she was searching to make sure he wasn’t hiding somewhere in their bedroom. “The Bond. He touched the Bond.”

That made a deep sound rumble in Catcher’s chest and his hold on her became almost possessive. He hated being reminded of that damned Bond.

“We have to leave,” pulling against his hold on her, Iza grunted when she was tugged back and restrained. “ _Catcher!_ ”

“Will you please just take two seconds and calm yourself?”

“I _can’t_ , Catcher! I want to leave. We still have our papers for Cerea. We’ll just—”

“ _Iza Tacor_ ,” big hands came up and cupped the sides of her head and the exiled Jedi let out a soft noise as Catcher’s forehead was pressed firmly to hers, locking his gaze to hers and holding it. “ _Calm. Down._ ”

And there it was. That strange ability he had to take all of her damn anxiety and just drain it away with no effort at all. She wondered sometimes how he did that. She’d made attempts to teach him how to find and use the Force, and he could do some silly things like move glasses and bother her along the Bond that they shared. But this was so much deeper than anything she could ever teach someone. This was a natural talent he seemed to have just been born with. Closing her eyes when he carefully swept his thumbs against the swells of her cheeks, Iza leaned in and brushed her lips over his.

“Thank you,” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his wrist as she tilted her head to lean further into one of his palms. “Stars above, Catcher— _thank you_.”

He was already peppering her whole face with more kisses, easing his fingers into her hair to cradle the back of her head once he’d made his way back to her mouth. Murmuring against her lips, he waited until he could feel her heartbeat slow back to its normal rhythm before he leaned back to look at her.

“Are you okay, Little Bit?” he asked, raising a brow when she opened her eyes to look at him.

“I think so,” she nodded, stealing one more kiss for good measure. “I just… I hate the way it feels when he touches my mind.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” And Catcher hated knowing that the other man had no damn sense of dignity. Iza’s _Other_ side was hard enough for _her_ to control; having someone else trigger it and force him into trying to tackle it too was just cruel. “What would you like to do about this?”

What _could_ they do? Obi-Wan was close enough to touch the Bond, which meant he was close enough to get here before they could get a ship and leave. She couldn’t go to meet him, either. She didn’t trust herself to stick to the pacifistic ways she’d been trying to keep to since leaving the Order. Pushing him around with Force energy was one thing; the things her Dark Side wanted to do to him were another entirely. She supposed she could relax a little knowing that he’d be forced to hand over his lightsaber upon arrival. The laws here were _very_ strict about weapons, even for the Jedi.

“Iza?” the brush of knuckles down the side of her face startled her.

“I guess we don’t have much of a choice,” she muttered, wanting nothing more than to take her husband and go back to bed. She really didn’t feel like getting dressed and waiting for that inevitable moment when the Jedi bastard would come knocking. “But he will _not_ be allowed in this house, do you hear me? I don’t care if he’s dying on the doorstep. He stays outside.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to argue with you there, sweetheart.”

~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan was unbothered as he handed over both lightsabers he’d had clipped to his belt, far too busy trying to locate where Iza might be. He’d thought to call the senator and see if he might be able to grant a favor by giving him access to the housing records of the area, but Bail Organa was off-world and Obi-Wan didn’t think it would be very proper to request such a thing from his wife Breha. He would just have to go by feel and feel alone, unfortunately.

“What do you _want?_ ”

Or—she could just meet him up on the arrival platform.

Turning at the sound of Iza’s extremely irritated voice, Obi-Wan found her standing meters away with a scowl to match. Catcher stood a few feet off to the side like some kind of bodyguard, arms folded and an equally annoyed look in his eye. Well, this was some welcoming committee, wasn’t it?

“I was hoping we could talk in private?”

“I don’t think so.” Iza shook her head. “You will not be setting foot off of this platform, Kenobi. _What do you want?_ ”

Shifting his gaze between Iza and her husband, the older man heaved a sigh and shrugged.

“You know, I was _almost_ willing to believe Ahsoka when she said you were balanced. I wanted to have some sort of hope that maybe… _maybe_ you’d figured yourself out, Iza. I don’t know how you managed to do it—I don’t know how you managed to fool Anakin’s most intuitive pupil, and I don’t know how you got Rex to ignore a request I made,” he paused long enough to lick his lips and press them together, looking as though he didn’t quite trust her. “But I know that there is no _balance_ within you. I feel it when I look into your eyes. There is nothing but contempt and rage inside of you.”

“Are you sure those are _my_ eyes you’re looking at, Kenobi? Not a reflection of your own?” _Ouch_. That was going to sting later. “And what do _you_ know of **hope**? This coming from the same man who told me not to cling to mine when Catcher’s ship crashed on that damned planet. You told me to _expect the worst_ and that he was _likely dead_. Did you put such thoughts into Anakin’s head when he was your Padawan? Is this why he toes the same lines I did?”

“Don’t bring Anakin into this,” she could say whatever she wanted about him; Anakin was off limits. “And I was trying to get you to be realistic, Iza. There was no telling what we were going to find on that planet.”

“What would you have done with me if he’d been dead, Obi-Wan?” This was about to go bad _real quick_. The air was already starting to become humid and Catcher had moved closer a few paces in order to keep a hand anchored to Iza’s back. It wouldn’t do much good if she chose to break her vow of non-violence and attack the man standing before them, but maybe he’d be able to give him a chance to escape. “Would you have tried to make me yours? Would you have taken those filthy fantasies of yours and made them reality? Because I think we both know you never stood a chance with me, with or without Catcher in the picture.”

“Why are you fighting me?” He didn’t like the look he was getting from the Clone standing beside Iza. It made him uneasy to see such a fire in someone who didn’t wield the powers of the Force. “I came here for discussion, Iza. I just wanted to help.”

“I don’t need your kriffing help. I never needed it.”

“Then why were you begging for it on Coruscant? When you were holding your child in your arms, _why_ was it _me_ you called out to? Why not Master Windu?”

Iza flinched visibly and Catcher tightened his hold on the back of her clothes. This man was tiptoeing on a very dangerous line and he wasn’t sure how much longer it would be before that _Other_ side of his wife would show itself.

“ ** _Leave_**.” Her green eyes looked almost poisonous as they stared him down and there was a sudden heaviness in her presence that made her seem ten feet tall. “You are _not_ welcome here, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“You can’t scare me away, Iza. Those tricks don’t work on me.” Except he was feeling a sense of dread sinking into his chest that he was trying _very_ hard to ignore. He didn’t know when Iza had harnessed her Dark Side powers like this, but clearly she’d done some practicing.

Giving a careless swat of her hand against Catcher’s arm to make him let go, Iza started walking toward the elder Jedi, watching the way he started taking in deeper lungfuls of breath—almost like something was preventing him from breathing normally.

This was _ridiculous_. This girl was barely five-and-a-half feet tall, but her presence seemed to loom over him and put more pressure on his chest the closer she got. When there was no more than a foot of space between them, she locked eyes with Obi-Wan and sent him careening into that familiar dark void where they could be alone to talk.

“Are you so blind to your own Darkness, Obi-Wan, that you don’t see what it does to those around you?” The softest of smirks lifted the corner of Iza’s lips as she tilted her head, looking much like that sweet girl he remembered her as. “You ruined me, Obi-Wan. This is _your_ fault. _You_ made me like this when you Bonded me.”

He stared at her— _hard_. Shaking his head vigorously, the older man realized that it was much easier to breathe now. That pressure seemed to have dropped. Somewhere in the inky blackness, he could sense Catcher nearby. Iza’s overwhelming presence was dimming as well, but she hadn’t cut the private communication yet.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Iza. Mace said—”

“ _Do **NOT** speak my Master’s name to me!_”

Her voice seemed to be so loud that it echoed inside of his head and nearly deafened him, causing him to bring his hands up to cover his ears while trying not to break eye contact. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what she would do if he did.

“I know full well what my Master predicted for me,” the whisper was a drastic contrast and it was almost too soft for him to hear with his ears ringing like that. “It’s funny how visions work, Obi-Wan. Sometimes things do not pan out exactly how we think they will. Sometimes we take the wrong precautions, protect ourselves from the wrong people.”

“Iza,” he didn’t understand what she was getting at. No—that was a lie. Obi-Wan had a very good idea what she was getting at, but he didn’t want her to say the things he was afraid to hear her say. “This is not my fault,”

“Isn’t it, though? You—with your manipulation and your overwhelming _need_ for everyone to know how perfect you are—you spill your Darkness into everything you touch in order to save your Light.” Shaking her head in disgust, Iza seemed to look him over without moving her eyes at all. “You passed it off on me through the Bond. _Same with Anakin_.”

“I **_told_** you not to bring him into this!”

“ _You already did!_ ” she yelled back, looking as though she was trying to take a step forward only to be held back by an unseen force. “The moment you took him as a Padawan, you sealed his fate. Same as you sealed _mine_ when you locked me up in this _hell_.”

“Iza—”

“ ** _You did this to US!_** ” she’d broken out of whatever invisible hold Catcher had on her and that vicious heat filled the space of their private void. “Accept it, Kenobi. Accept the fact that you _failed_. Accept the fact that you are nothing more than a walking _void_ that steals the Light and spits out whatever’s left. It’s _you_ who needs to be saved. **_YOU_**. Not me, not Anakin— _just you_ and your sorry, selfish soul _._ ”

In a simple blink of the eye, the void melted away around them and Obi-Wan became acutely aware of a cool breeze blowing across his face. He felt numb from head to toe and wasn’t quite sure if his legs would work if he tried to go back to his ship. Iza still stood in front of him with that defiant sort of look on her face, but she seemed to refuse to meet his gaze. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew she was right. He didn’t want to admit it—he’d _never_ wanted to admit it—but she was absolutely right.

His Darkness was the cause of all of this. He had no other outlet than to shove it onto those who were closest to him; he’d done it to Anakin—who’d been a fragile soul to toy with since birth—and he’d done it to her. He hadn’t meant to. Sometimes he just didn’t know what to do with those negative feelings when he was purging himself of them, and _sometimes_ he inadvertently pushed them down the Bonds he held with the two like some sort of telepathic garbage chute. Iza kept her shields up so high he never once thought it might actually break her, and Anakin…

 _Thank the stars_ that Anakin had a stronger will than she did.

His throat was dry and he felt dizzy standing there, looking around like he was high on something. His eyes found Iza’s face again and he took a step towards her, only to have her duck her chin and shoot a warning look in his direction.

“Help me,” he said finally, extending a hand that trembled lightly; with fear or exhaustion, one couldn’t be sure. “I don’t want to Fall.”

A bitter smirk formed on Iza’s lips and she shook her head slowly.

“Darling— _you already **have**_.”


	4. All Because of You

“Skywalker,” Mace Windu’s voice echoed through the hall of the Temple, making Anakin stop in his tracks to wait for him. The man had an intense sort of expression on his face and something about it made him more hesitant to let him approach than usual. Before he could ask what it was the older Jedi needed, Mace was right up on him like he fully intended to interrogate him about whatever it was that was on his mind. “Where is Master Kenobi?”

Anakin blinked. He hadn’t seen or heard from his Master in almost two days. He had no idea where the hell he’d gone; he’d just assumed he’d taken an assignment somewhere.

“I don’t know, Master Windu,” he answered, turning his hands up. “Is there a problem?”

“There’s a _big_ problem. There’s a ship missing from the yard and nobody seems to want to tell me who took it, or where it went.” Looking like he wanted to kick something in order to release the frustration building up inside of him, the older man exhaled harshly through his nose instead. “Kenobi is the only one I can’t find.”

“Well, I hate to point out the obvious, sir—”

“ _Then don’t_ ,” he didn’t have the damn patience for this. He normally wouldn’t be so frantic about figuring out where the ship went if it hadn’t been for the vision he’d had. He’d been in the middle of teaching a group of younglings how to sit properly for meditation when he’d been hit hard with the image of Obi-Wan and Iza fighting for control over… _something_. It had been difficult to make out what, but the sense of dread that had filled him was enough to make him extremely concerned about it.

Chewing his tongue, Anakin toyed with the idea of telling him where he thought his Master _could_ be. If Master Windu was this upset about the ship, then there had to be a reason—and he kind of wanted to know what it was. Maybe he’d be able to hitch a ride and go see for himself?

“Sir,” but _since when_ was he a tattle tale? “I might know where he’s gone.”

“Well spit it out, Skywalker. I’m not getting any younger.”

“See, he’s been… looking for Jedi Tacor,”

“I’m fully aware of that.” Had he just flinched? Anakin _swore_ he’d seen the man’s facial features twitch. “I told him she was under his jurisdiction as far as figuring out what to do with her goes. Are you telling me he found her?”

“Actually, Ahsoka did,” he was going to give the credit where it was due; Master Kenobi wasn’t going to have all of it. “By accident—see, recently, he was getting…” was _obsessed_ the right word to use here? “…frustrated because he was trying to locate her after she came back to the city.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Skywalker.” _Now_ he was getting even more impatient and Anakin knew it’d probably be best to just come out with it.

“He’s on Alderaan, sir. Ahsoka said Iza and Catcher have been there for about two years—since she got pregnant. Apparently the environment keeps her—”

“Balanced.” Mace finished, seeming to look through Anakin instead of at him. A strange expression crossed his face before Windu’s eyes finally came back into focus and fixed on the younger Jedi. Pointing at him, he gestured towards the area of the shipyard, “You and your Padawan have fifteen minutes to meet me out there.”

“Sir?”

“She’s the one who spoke to Iza for the longest amount of time, I’m guessing. She’ll know how to find her once we get to Alderaan.”

“ _We_ , sir?” Anakin had wanted to tag along, sure. But now he was starting to rethink this a little bit.

“Unless you’d prefer to just lend her to me—”

“ _Okay_ ,” no, Anakin was done with letting people **borrow** Ahsoka for their crap. “I’ll go get her and we’ll meet you down there, sir.”

“Good.” He seemed to hesitate, but Anakin didn’t think it had anything to do with him. “Thank you, Skywalker. I appreciate this.”

“Any time, sir,” he meant it. Anakin couldn’t imagine having to deal with what Master Windu must’ve gone through when Iza left. If anything ever happened to Ahsoka—or if she ever turned her back on the Order—the sheer amount of self-imposed shame and the heartbreak might actually kill him. It really was like having a child sometimes; there were days when everything was difficult and aggravating and made him want to give her over to someone else. And then there were days when it truly felt like his universe wouldn’t be complete without her in it. Hell, Anakin knew damn well that his life would be dreary without Ahsoka in it. She was as important to him as Padme was; Force help the person who thought it a good idea to ever hurt either one of them.

Yeah, he understood why Mace had been so hard-pressed for information. He’d be knocking heads to get what he needed from people in order to find Ahsoka.

Speaking of which—

“Ahsoka,” poking his head into her room, he found her reading something on a datapad. “Come on, we’ve got something important to do.”

~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan had been sitting in his hotel room for about three hours, staring blindly at a painting of some green field he assumed was located _somewhere_ on Alderaan. The burning in his eyes begged him to blink, but his brain was far too busy combing over the encounter he’d had with Iza to bother. There was so much soul-searching to do, so many things he had to nit-pick for flaws; it gave him a damn headache, but he refused to move until he’d found what he was looking for.

 _When?_ He’d wondered what it’d been that had been the trigger moment. What had sent him toppling over the edge so delicately that he hadn’t even noticed? That _no one else_ had noticed. Of course he’d questioned whether or not Iza had simply just put the idea into his head that he was not as attuned to the Light as he thought. He didn’t believe she was strong enough to push those sorts of thoughts into his mind, but stranger things _had_ happened. He couldn’t dwell on thoughts of her for long, far too invested on getting this figured out so he could plug it at the source and help himself before it got any worse.

He had seen _many_ things that would bring a normal man to the brink, watched many of his comrades fall around him during the war. No—further back. This had to be a deeper wound. Something that would have affected Anakin because of his carelessness to control where his excess emotions went.

 _Master Qui-Gon_.

A rush of air escaped him when the vision of seeing his Master falling to his knees with that shocked look on his face. The room grew warmer the longer he dwelled on the memory of how much panic had settled into him, and he thought he felt the blazing burn of a lightsaber stab through him in the same place Master Qui-Gon had been. _There_ —that was it. That moment of desperate confusion and horrible sadness over losing his Master— _that_ was the root of the problem. He’d been forced to shove all of it aside for Anakin’s sake and burn it alongside Qui-Gon’s body for the sake of staying on the right path. There was so much hidden resentment towards his protégé whether he wanted to admit it or not, and towards the Order for never giving him time to grieve. They’d insisted that The Boy begin his training immediately and he could not defy his dying Master’s wish for him to carry it out in his place.

The room was unbearably hot and he was getting dizzy the longer he dwelled on the old memory. Swallowing against the need to be sick, Obi-Wan pushed himself off of the chair and stumbled over to where a pitcher of water had been set out for him. One glass, two, three—it didn’t seem to matter how many he drank, the heat just wouldn’t die down. Maybe if he went outside and got some fresh air? His feet seemed to carry him to the balcony without prompt and the first rush of cool night air was a damned blessing. It was easier to breathe out here and it eased some of the pressure that had been building in his head. Raking fingers through sweat-damp hair, Obi-Wan leaned against the solid railing that overlooked the city of Aldera but found he couldn’t enjoy the view.

The things he was thinking about left him feeling weak—but strangely enlightened, as well. It was like having someone remove blinders he hadn’t known he was wearing. His brain wandered over all of the times Anakin had acted out in his presence, the times he’d reprimand him as gently as possible and get nothing but fire in return. He sometimes wondered that maybe Anakin’s own internal battle with his Darkness had influenced him somehow and now Obi-Wan could see that it was _his_ Darkness that had only agitated his apprentice. And to think that Chancellor Palpatine had been considered the biggest threat to the boy near the end. Funny how things worked like that.

When the next gentle breeze blew by, Obi-Wan closed his eyes in an attempt to savor it and center himself. At least he could still control it, right? He could just expel this fiery feeling in his gut and—

 _No_ , wait.

This was what had gotten him into trouble to begin with. But Anakin was on Coruscant and Iza had put up shields so thick he couldn’t even sense where she might be in the city. Maybe he’d be able to push all of this out and feel like himself again instead of this strange imposter.

“It doesn’t work that way,”

 _Stars End!_ Iza’s voice startled him enough to nearly stop his heart. Turning to stare at her with wide eyes and a shocked look that quickly became one of fury, Obi-Wan pulled himself up to his full height and glanced behind her to check for any sign of Catcher. Something told him the Clone wasn’t going to let his wife be left alone with him, at least not for very long.

“He isn’t here,” she sounded almost annoyed as she shrugged out of her cloak and tossed it onto a chair, looking around the room slowly. “Do you always project your nightmarish thoughts so hard, Obi-Wan? Or am I special?”

The laugh he let out was short and dry, his eyes following her as she walked around the space of the room and sat herself down on the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing here, Iza?” his damned throat was like a Tatooine desert, but he didn’t dare go back inside. “Didn’t you tell me that you’d seen enough of my _disgusting face?_ ”

“I have,” shrugging, Iza waved a hand. “But when I’m bombarded with visions of a man being stuck through the middle with a lightsaber, it tends to disrupt my sleep.”

 _Right_. He felt like he probably owed some sort of apology for that. He wasn’t going to give it to her, but nevertheless.

“Do you still think I’m lying? Now that you’ve felt it for yourself—do you think I’m lying about your Fall?”

This made him pause for a moment and turn his eyes away from her, looking lost in thought. He didn’t want to answer, but he also couldn’t just ignore the niggling feeling in his gut anymore. Judging by the fact that the room was _still_ broiling hot and he could feel a strange sense of impurity within himself, he had to unfortunately admit that maybe— _maybe_ —he’d stumbled somewhere along the way. But if his behavior as a Jedi was anything to go by, then he wasn’t beyond saving. There was still hope for him. He just needed the right environment and the right—

“What did I say?” Rolling her eyes with a sigh, Iza got to her feet and headed outside to stand beside him, giving him a look. “It doesn’t work like that, Obi-Wan. You can learn _balance_ , but you will never know the Light as you once did. Not without finding an outlet for the Darkness.”

He had those, didn’t he? Anakin and Iza were like little drainage tubes for him to cram all of his inner turmoil into so he wouldn’t have to deal with any of it. Granted, it was unwise to keep pushing Anakin to the edge; Iza was a lost cause, though.

“I think that’s a load.” He said, still not looking at her. “If someone can be pulled into the Dark, then they can be pulled out of it.”

“What Force user do _you_ know that has successfully turned away from the Dark Side? _Completely?_ ”

“Your Master,”

“My Master had troubles, but he was never tempted the same way we were. He was taught to harness it and use it for a better purpose. _You_ , on the other hand…” eyeing him up and down, Iza smirked faintly and turned her attention out to the city with a soft sigh. “You won’t let go of your grudge against Anakin.”

“I have no grudge!”

Reaching up, Iza gave a solid tap to the side of Obi-Wan’s head, looking extremely impatient.

“How many times do I have to remind you of this? _How many?_ Because it gets _very_ old having to repeat myself, Obi-Wan.”

In the blink of an eye, Obi-Wan snatched her by the wrist and _squeezed_ , blue eyes narrowing at her sharply. Honestly, he was getting a little tired of her mouth. Who the hell did she think she was, walking in here uninvited just to continue berating him the way she’d done on the platform? For someone who claimed to be balanced, she sure as hell leaned _quite far_ into the shadowy side of things.

“Don’t touch me,” letting go, he turned to storm back into the room. He needed more water. “You can claim that the Bond tells you everything, Iza, but I happen to know that I keep certain things locked away from you for a reason. You’re using interrogation tactics on me that aren’t going to work.”

She didn’t answer.

“Oh, what’s wrong? Mad that I can’t be fooled by your attempts at trickery?” Looking over, he actually flinched a little when he saw her standing there staring down at the wrist he’d grabbed. The expression on her face was unreadable as she traced her fingers over the skin, but he could feel something like distress in her energy. Watching her tentatively flex her fingers made him feel sick; he’d hurt her. He hadn’t meant to, but that didn’t change the fact that he _had_. “Iza?”

“There is no hope for you,” she said quietly, tucking her arm against her chest. She seemed to refuse to look at him and he couldn’t blame her. “Not that you’d ever believe there to be, anyway.”

“Iza,”

“Was it you?” Turning those bright green eyes to him that seemed to burn a hole right through his head, she held tighter to her arm and pressed her lips together like she was fighting off the urge to cry. “Was it _you_ who did it?”

“Did what? _Iza_ , I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he really didn’t.

“I’m _missing_ memories, Obi-Wan. From that night we went to find that Spice runner.” _Oh no_. “I remember being there with you and I remember getting drunk—and then I remember waking up in that bed with you looking like the sorriest bastard in the entire universe. Tell me, _was it **you**_?”

“I never touched you,” he shook his head, wondering how she could ever ask such a thing. “Iza, I _wouldn’t_ do that!”

“Then _why_ would you do _this?_ ” Brandishing her arm out to him, the brunette grit her teeth against the tears threatening to choke her, “Something happened that night and I can’t remember what it is. Catcher won’t tell me— _nobody_ will tell me. What did you **do** to me, Obi-Wan?”

“ _I saved your damn life is what I did!_ ” The glass in his hand was thrown against the nearest wall, shattering into a billion little pieces that rained down onto the floor. “He had you up against that _kriffing_ wall, Iza. You don’t want to know the things he would’ve done to you if I hadn’t realized you were gone.” There was a hint of a snarl in his voice that shocked even him. Obi-Wan wasn’t one to get angry like this, but _Force_ , she was really testing him. “I **killed** him. Is that what you’re trying to get out of me? I beheaded the man we were sent to bring in because he was going to _defile_ you in plain view of the entire damn city.”

A cold silence fell over the room then, save for the sounds of their collective breathing. Iza looked about ready to pass out on her feet as his words sank in and pieced together the jumbled puzzle she’d been trying to fix for years. That dazed look she’d worn the day they were set to return to Coruscant was clear on her face and her mind seemed to be somewhere else entirely. He really did try to get to her before she collapsed, barely managing to grasp her under the arms as her knees hit the ground and she let out a horrible wail of distress.

That had been a bad call to make, telling her about that night. He’d been warned not to meddle with what Master Windu had done. Taking that memory from her had been an act of mercy on Windu’s behalf, who believed that she would be far more capable of handling herself without it. It hadn’t sit well with Obi-Wan—or anyone else, really—for the Master Jedi to suppress the memory from her and force them all to walk around _knowing_.

“I… can’t…” Iza lightly fanned her hand in front of her mouth, trying to indicate how hard she was finding it to breathe.

Scooping her into his arms, the Jedi carried her inside and set her down in a chair before going for the water pitcher. Something in his head told him he should probably call her husband; the Clone was extremely adept at pulling Iza out of these panic spells. But there wasn’t time for that right now. Fast as that man was, he doubted he could get here quick enough to put that poor woman out of her misery. The shrill scream that sounded behind him had Obi-Wan jumping out of his skin and knocking the pitcher over in his haste to turn around and see what had caused her to scream out like that.

Iza still sat in the same place he’d left her, only now she’d curled into herself with her hands buried deep in her hair. She would start pulling it out if he didn’t do something to try and calm her. The air in the room was getting hot again as he crossed the space between them in two long strides, kneeling in front of the chair and hovering his hands over her like he didn’t know where to start. Finally, Obi-Wan grasped the sides of her head the way he’d seen Catcher do a hundred times before, stilling her and making her stare back at him with those terrified eyes. _Stars_ , he was having flashbacks to the morning after in their hotel when she’d been just as frightened. This time around, there was something _different_ about the look in her eye. There was a certain glassiness that suggested she wasn’t **there** entirely.

“Iza,” try as he might to lock their gaze and bring her to that safe place only the two of them could go to, she kept shutting him out. He could feel her blocking him with every last bit of power she had inside of her and it _killed_ him to see her continue to suffer and not take his help. “Iza, please,”

 _No dice_. The heat of the room was rising at a steady rate and now he didn’t know which one of them was the cause of it. He wasn’t angry, just _frustrated_. He could see her falling apart behind her petrified expression, and she was refusing to let him help. The _good_ Jedi inside of him warned him to just let her be; let her stew in her suffering and let it play out the way it was supposed to. There was little to be done if she didn’t want to be helped. But the other side—that part of him he was so afraid to touch—was kicking him in the side and calling him a coward for not trying harder. He couldn’t take this. It was too much.

There was little thought behind his actions when he pulled her in and sealed his lips over hers in a rough kiss, intending only to break her concentration long enough to slip himself into her head. He never meant to take any sort of pleasure out of it. He never meant to deepen it the way that he did—though he was surprised that she’d allowed him to do so. And he certainly never meant to try turning it into something more passionate than it was supposed to be. All he knew was that there’d been such a sense of _release_ when he’d kissed her that he hadn’t wanted to let it go. He wanted to drown himself in the taste of her mouth and revel in the fact that this was _so much better_ than what his dreams had always cooked up for him. It set his head spinning in a way he hadn’t felt in _years_.

Or maybe that was the hand she’d slammed against the side of his head.

He’d heard the slap before he felt it and backed off immediately, looking stunned. He’d given no thought as to whether or not she would approve and it was a big, _big_ mistake on his part. She was a married woman, for stars’ sake! What the hell did he think he was doing, kissing her like that?

“Get away from me,” she warned, her eyes following every twitch of movement his body made. Iza’s violated expression broke his heart; what had he done? “ _Get **back**_.”

He wasn’t going to argue. Scooting back on the floor until his shoulders hit the edge of the bed, Obi-Wan watched her slip out of the chair and grab the cloak that was draped over the back of it. Her green eyes had taken on that poisonous shade again and she looked as though she could’ve struck him dead right then and there if she had the power to. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t have blamed her. He felt like such a monster for that.

“You wait until Master Windu gets here,” she said softly, bringing a hand up to drag it across her mouth, looking utterly disgusted with him. “You just _wait_.”

A brow went up in alarm. What did she mean by that? Shouldn’t it be Catcher she should be threatening him with? Now he had to worry about Windu on top of it?

“What… do you mean?” He asked tentatively, not wanting to anger her further. He counted himself lucky that he was still conscious. She’d really rocked him with that blow to the head.

“Did you think that you could just _leave_ Coruscant without anyone knowing?” her boots crunched on the pieces of the glass he’d shattered as she put herself as far away from him as possible. “Did you think I couldn’t reach my own Master if I needed to?”

His eyes were going to pop out of his head if he stared any harder. _Well_ , Windu was right; the Bond between Master and Apprentice was certainly stronger than what the two of them shared.

“I’m done trying to help you,” she muttered, turning with the intention of leaving. “Yours is the kind of Darkness I want nothing to do with. I suggest finding yourself a Sith to help you wrangle that in.”

 _Ouch_. That felt like the lowest blow she possibly could’ve given.

“Iza, wait,” did he have any right to speak to her? To ask for her forgiveness? To plead with her not to abandon him to this horrible side of himself? “I’m sorry,”

“No you’re not,” a bitter laugh bubbled forth, followed by an equally bitter smirk. “You never do anything without _purpose_ , Obi-Wan Kenobi. You knew what you were doing. You’re _filth_.”

He bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything further. He didn’t quite trust what might come out of his mouth the angrier he got. Deciding it was best to just duck his head and let her leave, the older man waited until he heard the door slide shut before bringing his hands up to scrub them hard over his face. _Cosmos’ End_ , what had just happened here? He had never lost control of himself like this before. He’d never had the urge to do something so _stupid_ before, either. This just wasn’t going the way he’d planned for it to at all. Obi-Wan had wanted to come to Alderaan to try and help Iza and now he was the one who needed the help. Her comment about finding a Sith to assist him with his Darkness hadn’t gone unheard, either.

Did she not know that the last known Sith capable of providing any sort of _help_ to him was dead? Dooku likely would’ve only taken him in out of pity in the first place. _Or because of Qui-Gon._ His Master would be _so_ disappointed in him; so damn ashamed.

 _That_ was a thought he didn’t want to stew in.

But nobody could feel as ashamed as Obi-Wan. He’d been living a lie all of this time and had barely realized it. Maybe he _did_ just have a natural sort of Darkness in him that slipped so far below the radar that even he couldn’t detect it. He would have at least expected Master Yoda to say something to him—but then again—nobody really said anything to _anyone_ about that sort of thing at the Temple. Not unless they were on the verge of a Fall and typically by then, it was too late.

Deciding that he didn’t want to sit on the floor and sulk for the rest of the night, Obi-Wan pulled himself to his feet and went to grab his cloak from the closet.

Maybe a drink or two would help to ease his mind.

~*~*~*~

Iza didn’t want to go into the house. She’d done nothing but sob into the panel of her cloak the whole walk home and she knew that Catcher would take one look at her and just _know_. _Stars_ , she felt disgusting. She could still taste Obi-Wan in her mouth and feel the rough scratch of his beard on her chin. Her wrist hurt quite a bit too; she hadn’t known he was so damn strong. She hated herself for not fighting him off immediately, but she’d been so lost in her own head that she hadn’t even realized what was going on until it was too late. One minute she was reliving that horrible memory of being in the alleyway with the scumbag Spice-dealer, and the next she was being kissed by a man who was _not_ her husband. There’d been no love, no warmth, no sign of anything but sick lust in that kiss and it made her want to hurl just thinking about it. It had been a selfish act on his behalf, but then again—what _didn’t_ Obi-Wan do that wasn’t selfish? Even acts that were meant to be for others were secretly meant to satisfy that sick desire he had to be _perfect_ in the eyes of the Order.

Filth. That man was pure _filth_.

“Iza? Sweetheart, what are you doing out here?” Catcher’s curious tone startled her, making her rub hastily at her face in the hopes that he wouldn’t see any of her leftover tears.

“Went for a walk,” she said a little too quickly, flashing a smile. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

Catcher’s dark eyes studied her for a long moment before he walked up and reached out to pull her to him, running his hands along the small of her back and up between her shoulders.

“What happened?” _How?_ Maybe it’d been a bad idea to teach this man how to reach for the Force. “Iza, your eyes are red.”

Or maybe she needed to do a better job at hiding the fact that she’d been crying. Not really wanting to answer, the brunette just leaned into him and set her head on his chest, shutting her eyes and savoring the feeling of safety he provided when his arms went around her.

“You’re tense,” he noted, kissing the top of her head. “And _warm_. Iza, did you—”

“Catcher,” twisting her fingers in the material of the tunic he wore, she gave a hard tug and buried her head deeper in the center of his chest. “ _Be quiet._ ”

The Clone could only heave a relenting sigh. He knew not to argue with her when she used that tone. Though, he couldn’t help being a little frustrated that she wouldn’t talk to him. He didn’t like being shut out—she knew that—and he didn’t like having her come home to him in such an agitated state. He had a damn good feeling about what had gotten her so riled up, but wasn’t going to speak of it. The sooner that man left their world, the better.

“Can we go in?” Iza asked after a while, lifting her head to look at him.

Nodding, he lightly kissed the end of her nose and moved to pick her up and take her into the house, a little surprised when she resisted.

“Iza?”

“I can walk,” there was something in her voice he didn’t like. It didn’t feel like it was directed at him, but it still unsettled him.

“Okay,” keeping an arm around her, he led her into the house and watched her take her boots off, raising a brow when little bits of glass fell out of the treads. Just where the hell had she been tonight? He waited until she’d hung her cloak in the closet before trying again. “Little Bit, are you all right?”

The way she shut her eyes like she had to count the number of breaths it took to calm herself down before she could answer was all the answer he needed.

“Iza,” coming over to cup her face in his hands, he jerked when she batted them away. She’d never done something like that before. Iza always let him comfort her. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

“You _lied_ to me!” the utter betrayal in her voice threatened to tear him in two. “I asked and asked and _asked_ and you told me _you didn’t know anything!_ ”

What the _hell_ was she talking about? He’d never lied to her about a damn thing in his life. There was never a reason to lie to her about anything. Maybe he’d covered up some truths because he’d been instructed to, but he’d _never_ lied to her.

“Little Bit—”

“You let me walk around with _holes_ in my memory, Catcher!” _Oh, Force_. “You _knew_ about what happened on that mission and you _kept it from me_.”

“Sweetheart I didn’t have any other choice!” He tried not to raise his voice too much; he didn’t want to see her flinch or have her turn those sad eyes on him. “Your Master forbade _all_ of us from saying anything to you. I didn’t like it. I didn’t think it was fair that he took that out of your head instead of letting you deal with it at your own pace.” Yeah, he’d gotten _real_ pissed about that, too. Those damn Jedi had some strange ways of **handling** their problems and forcing others to handle theirs. “But I didn’t _lie_ to you, Iza. Little Bit, I would _never_ lie to you.”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?” Throwing her hands out in front of her weakly, Iza gave him that look he’d been dreading. The one that went straight to his heart like a blaster-bolt and made him want to die on the spot. “Why would you let me live with the nightmares I didn’t understand?”

“ _Iza, please_ ,” reaching out, he threaded his fingers into her hair as gently as he could, absolutely astounded that she hadn’t backhanded him yet. Instead, she seemed to melt into the touch, even when her hands went up defensively. What in the hell had happened to her? She felt like she was on fire when his fingertips met her scalp and somewhere in the back of his head, he knew this had to be Obi-Wan’s doing. Pulling her close with his free hand, he pressed his lips to her forehead in an attempt to calm her. “Little Bit,”

“He’s breaking me, Catcher,” sagging against his chest in defeat, she shut her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t keep fighting. I can’t hold on. He’s going to take what’s left.”

“He can’t,” tilting his head down to look at her, the Clone took hold of her hand and pressed it to his chest. “Your Light is right here, my love. Right where you left it. He can’t touch it here.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing,” she wasn’t defending Obi-Wan in the slightest. “He doesn’t _get it_. He’s like a void—just _taking_ until there’s nothing left. If someone doesn’t teach him—”

“That’s _not_ your responsibility, Iza,” tilting her chin up so she would look at him, Catcher fixed her with a hard look. “I understand you feel like you owe some kind of loyalty to him, but his problem is not _your_ problem.”

“My problem wasn’t _yours_ either.”

“You’ve been **_my_** problem since day one, Little Bit,” smirking he kissed the end of her nose. “You wouldn’t be able to stop me from helping even if you used your silly tricks on me.”

She looked frustrated, like she wanted to find something else to throw at him to keep the argument going. Stubborn little thing; always having to have the last word. Catcher could see the fight draining out of her eyes, replaced by something else. Something softer and more concerning than any anger she could throw at him.

“He…” suddenly the wall was more interesting than looking her husband in the eye. “ _Kissed_ me.”

The hair along Catcher’s neck stood on end and he swallowed the urge he had to give one of those possessive growls he’d perfected long ago. It didn’t stop him from holding onto her tighter, however, or stop the harsh rush of breath that rushed out of his nose.

“I didn’t—”

“I know you didn’t,” of course she wouldn’t. Catcher knew better than that. It wasn’t any fault of hers that the man masquerading as a _peacekeeper_ was anything but. “But I do hope you bit his tongue.”

This made her laugh and press her face to his shoulder. Good. This was good. Things were starting to feel less tense between them now.

“I hit him pretty hard,” Iza murmured, looking to her hand. “I don’t understand what was going on with him. I feel like a fool going over there.”

“Don’t,” Catcher rested his head against hers and gently took her hand, kissing the palm and frowning at the darkening marks on her wrist. “Iza?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Tucking her arm between the two of them, she leaned up and kissed him as if to drive her point home. “Don’t make me talk about it. He brings out the worst in me and I hate it. So just… _please_.”

He had to bite his tongue to keep from commenting on the Obi-Wan situation any further, only sighing and giving her chin a light pinch.

“Fine, I will. But only because you didn’t tell me to _be quiet_ this time.”


	5. Trying to Keep an Eye On You

Obi-Wan wouldn’t have considered himself to be _drunk_. More like _pleasantly buzzed_. He’d perfected the art of keeping himself relatively sober even when he was knocking back shots of painfully strong liquor because one never knew when they might have to defend themselves against an unwarranted attack. He also preferred it when he didn’t feel like he was half-dead on his feet. That was always a plus. He hadn’t figured Alderaan to be somewhere to house a bar like this, but he was grateful that he hadn’t been made to drown his thoughts in the middle of some swanky spot where he ran the risk of bumping into someone who knew him. Places like this only pulled in the kind of people who kept to themselves and _maybe_ gave you a nod of recognition if they saw you. So, having someone come up and sit right beside you when there was a whole row of stools along the counter was a little unnerving.

“We need to talk,” Catcher sounded like he wanted to do more than _talk_. He sounded like he wanted to turn Obi-Wan into a Jedi shaped rug for his living room. Waving to the droid behind the counter, he ordered some kind of house ale and shot the man beside him a quick glance. “You need to leave.”

“I thought you wanted to talk?” Ever the master of sass, Obi-Wan snorted into his drink and tried not to take down what remained. He had a feeling the Clone wasn’t done.

“You’re causing Iza’s Darkness to shift. She’s been perfectly balanced for almost three years now. I won’t let her go back to what she was when we left.” Oh—he’d definitely caught on to what everyone was saying back then. It hadn’t manifested itself in front of him for about a month, and then she’d taken a job for some extra cash so they wouldn’t have to sell the ship. He’d gone with her for backup—because the war was still raging around them—and he’d been given a front row seat to just how vicious that other side of his wife could be. She’d used abilities he hadn’t seen a Jedi use before—literally _choked_ the life out of an innocent person because they’d gotten in her way. It may have been the one and only time the two of them truly fought over something enough to the point where he’d considered going his own way.

“We warned you.” The older man said flatly, waving the droid over for a refill. “We told you she’d fallen. You didn’t listen.”

“You say it like you didn’t have your hand in it.” Scoffing, Catcher shook his head. “Master Windu knew how fragile she was. That’s why she was supposed to stick to _simple_ missions. Not the kind of thing you and your comrades got up to.”

“If Master Windu had any sort of reservations, he should’ve brought them up to me— _but he **didn’t**_. He’s just as much to blame for this.”

“Is he?” Looking over at Obi-Wan again, Catcher tilted his head slightly and squinted. “Because I don’t recall asking _Master Windu_ to save my wife.”

“And that is _all_ I did, Catcher!” A hand came down hard on the surface of the counter, rattling glasses and bottles all the way down the bar. “I put only my best intentions into the Force energy I used to save her! _Not_ like what she did with _you_.”

“But _I_ am not Force sensitive. There’s a big difference.”

Obi-Wan ground his teeth and stared straight ahead at the wall of liquor bottles in front of them, shaking his head slowly. He had something he really wanted to say, but wasn’t sure being punched off of his stool was worth it. Pacifist world or not, he knew how damn protective this man was of his wife; he wouldn’t hesitate for a second.

“I’m going to say something,” he started, speaking slowly to give himself time to gather the thoughts he’d been stewing over since he’d gotten to the bar. “And I would appreciate it if you heard me out before you decide to take my head off.”

Catcher waved a hand at him as if to give permission, taking a long drink from the bottle in front of him and saying nothing.

“I think you’re pointing the finger at the wrong person. I don’t… _believe_ that I’m the cause of Iza’s Fall.” Holding a hand up to keep the other man from interjecting, he continued, “I will not deny that I have my own problems. But Catcher, explain to me how an _entire_ Temple full of Jedi were not able to read that much Darkness within me? Grand Master Yoda, especially.”

Catcher couldn’t give him an answer. In fact, he couldn’t seem to say _anything_ as he sat there and stared down at the countertop.

“Please do not be offended, but I believe that it is _Iza_ who holds more of the Dark Side inside of her than she realizes. She has always had a problem with projection—I should know.” Giving a shake of his head and a short laugh, Obi-Wan sighed heavily. “Perhaps I awoke something inside of her that I was not supposed to, but I did not cause _this_. I have been sitting in this bar for two hours going over the things I _thought_ I could’ve done to push her and none of it makes sense. Her accusations _don’t make sense_ , Catcher.”

“No, they don’t,” the younger man’s voice was gruff and he didn’t look at Obi-Wan when he spoke. “But she doesn’t listen when I try to tell her this.”

“She’s trying to pull more of us over,” anxious fingers tapped against the side of his glass. “She’s causing doubt in people without them realizing it. Myself included.”

“She seems to think you’re already Fallen,” Catcher took another long drink of the ale and waved a hand to order another. He would do well not to drink too much, but the situation seemed to call for at least another bottle or two. “What are your thoughts on that?”

“I admit she’s done a good job at making me question myself.” He sounded almost impressed. “But the longer I search, the less any of it makes sense. Catcher—she was at my hotel room this evening.”

“I’m _aware_ ,” the growl in his tone was enough to tell Obi-Wan to tread lightly with this topic.

“But _how?_ How would she know where I was staying when I couldn’t find her _anywhere_ in this city? She seems to be able to reach across the Bond when she deems it convenient, but I no longer can.” Turning a hand up, he ran his fingers through his hair and let out a frustrated huff. “I think she was putting those thoughts in my head—or pulling them from my memory. I’m not sure. She was too young when Master Qui-Gon died. There’s no way she’d even remember…”

“She was thirteen.” Catcher muttered, picking at the label on his ale bottle. “She told me she’d been picked to be Master Windu’s Padawan just before you and your Master collected Anakin Skywalker. They’re not far apart in age.”

“But she was not _there_ , Catcher. There is no way she could’ve known…” well, no. There were a few ways she’d know about how his Master had met his end. But it wasn’t something he kept floating around openly in his head and he would’ve _known_ if she’d gone poking around in the wrong places. “My point is that I think she may be stronger than we realize. Perhaps stronger than _she_ realizes.”

“And what do you want to do?”

“I was hoping Master Windu would know how to handle the situation.” Shrugging a shoulder, Obi-Wan glanced over at the Clone. “He picked her for a reason. He kept her away from Anakin for years—kept her away from a _lot_ of us. I’ve been wondering if he knew she had the potential to disturb the things that would turn us over and this was his way of protecting her.”

“So you want to take her back to the Temple?” Catcher’s knuckles went white as he gripped the bottle in his hand, threatening to crush it. “She won’t go willingly, you realize?”

“I don’t think it will be necessary to do that.” Eyeing the other man, Obi-Wan silently hoped he wasn’t about to become the target of inadvertent rage. “She seems to think that Master Windu is on his way here.”

Both brows went up high on Catcher’s forehead. His wife hadn’t said anything to him about that. Then again, their conversation hadn’t really left room to touch on any extra details like that. He’d been too concerned with trying to keep her calm.

“I have a question for you, Catcher,”

The Clone just gave another wave of his hand, still somewhat deep in thought over everything else running through his head.

“You seem to be the anchor she needs to stay balanced. Why is that?”

The question pulled him out of his head and back to the present and after a moment of mulling it over, a soft smile spread across his lips.

“I’m not quite sure, to be honest.” He shrugged a big shoulder, the smile becoming more amused by the second. “We were friends before that accident. Just casual buddies. Windu always insisted on keeping her as far away from me as possible. I think he wanted to avoid attachment. He knew how easy we got picked off on the battlefield and didn’t want someone bringing back bad news to her.” He was grinning now. “That didn’t stop her, of course. Busy as I was sometimes, she always managed to get me to spend at least few minutes with her.”

“What changed?”

“The war.” Shrugging again, Catcher turned his hands up. “She was needed to help with that assignment and Windu apparently trusted me enough to send me out with her. If anyone was going to bring his apprentice back from her mission _alive_ , he seemed to trust me to be the man to do it. You Jedi are terrible with this _sensing feelings_ thing you do. It’s extremely invasive, you know.”

“He knew you cared for her,”

“Everyone did, I think.” Humming quietly, the Clone stared down at the counter. “Rex told me to reel it in before it got me into trouble. He wasn’t going to stand for a Trooper whose head was so lost in the clouds that he couldn’t do his duties properly. And… I tried. I did.”

“Before or after the accident?”

“Both.”

Obi-Wan looked surprised, but Catcher didn’t seem to be finished.

“I should’ve made her stay in the cockpit with the rest of us where it was warmer. If I’d known then what I know now, I don’t think I’d let her wander off to go _meditate_.” He got that faraway look some of the other war survivors did when they thought back to the things they’d witnessed; only his mental scars were a bit _different_. “I panicked when I realized how long it’d been since she left. Your ship was due to arrive any minute and she hadn’t come back yet. The only thing I could think of when I found her was that I had to get her out _somehow_.” Stopping himself, Catcher shut his eyes and shook his head, clearing his throat with a grunt before taking a long drink of ale. “You were there. You know what happened.”

“Yes I do,” nodding slowly, Obi-Wan wondered if maybe they should shift topics. “But I’ve seen the way you calm her down. It’s like watching someone flip a switch inside of her. Explain to me how you do that.” Mostly, he wanted to know why Catcher seemed to have an innate ability to just touch the woman and drain all the negativity out of her; it _fascinated_ him.

“Before the accident, Iza was very sure of herself. I don’t know how often the two of you crossed paths in the Temple, but she carried a great deal of the same confidence that Master Windu does.” Looking over at Obi-Wan, the younger man smirked faintly. “She spent a long time learning his tricks. She wanted to be just like him.”

“But what does that have to do—”

“She used to get headaches a lot during the beginning of the war. She complained to me one day that there was so much pressure in her head that she couldn’t concentrate. This was… around the time of her Trials, I think.” Tapping the mouth of his bottle against his chin, Catcher nodded to himself as if to confirm. “Yeah—because it was when she still had that silly braid in her hair.”

Obi-Wan wanted to make a comment about that _silly braid_ , but had a feeling Catcher would only continue to talk over him.

“I started giving her scalp massages.” Catcher laughed quietly, grimacing. “Probably shouldn’t have since it made the Little Bit turn to a bit of an addict for them. But I couldn’t leave her to suffer like that. She’d come to me crying in the middle of the night sometimes these headaches were so strong. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Was she pulling her hair?” Obi-Wan asked, looking curious. “The excessive tugging from her anxiety would’ve caused the headaches.”

“She always pulled her hair,” turning his hands up, the younger man snorted. “I can’t remember a time when she didn’t. It was worse with the Trials because she almost tore that braid out. Master Windu forbade her to see me after that because he thought I was the cause of her anxiety, somehow. Like _that_ stopped her.”

“It’s always been there,” a wave of realization washed over Obi-Wan as the information sank in. “Her Dark Side has always been with her. Master Windu just helped her suppress it until she was old enough to take control herself.”

“Why would he do that? Isn’t he one of the strictest among you people?”

“He must’ve had some sort of reason. The man is _very_ skilled and _very_ hard to argue against. They gave him a position on the High Council for a reason.”

“He couldn’t be her true father, could he?”

This made Obi-Wan let out a laugh that echoed through the whole bar and had several sets of eyes looking over at them.

“No, no,” waving his hand as he tried to get his laughter under control, the Jedi was unable to suppress a grin. “I assure you—Iza is _not_ Mace Windu’s daughter. One would only have to _look_ at them to see there is no resemblance, Catcher.”

“Maybe the daughter of a friend? Another Jedi, maybe?” Catcher didn’t look as amused as Obi-Wan did.

“That would be a bit more plausible, but I’m afraid not. Iza’s been with us since she was a toddler. Her parents were in the center of Galactic City when she was handed over. Windu collected her himself.”

“And that isn’t suspicious to you?”

Taking a sip of his drink, Obi-Wan had to let that sink in for a moment. Catcher raised a good point; while it wasn’t unheard of for the younglings who were rounded up to be later taken as Padawans by those same Jedi Masters, he felt he could recall somewhat that there’d been something a bit odd about Windu’s interest in the girl. Master Qui-Gon had made an offhand comment about how Windu was _keeping an eye on that one_ , but never gave any explanation when pressed. Obi-Wan had been far too invested in finally beginning his own training that he hadn’t paid it any mind after that.

“How does she maintain her balance, Catcher?” It was time to switch topics again. He could tell that the man beside him was loosening up with his words and he intended to milk as much information from him as possible.

“I— _well_ ,” suddenly looking a little flustered, the Clone rubbed at his scarred chin and cleared his throat. “Meditation helps, and the atmosphere of Alderaan.” _Oh Force_. “And I suppose our love life.”

“What about your son?”

The bottle in Catcher’s hand cracked all the way up one side from the force of his grip and Obi-Wan readied himself to be smashed over the head with it. When nothing followed, he cautiously stole a glance at the other man to find him clenching his jaw and trying _very_ hard to keep his eyes on anything that wasn’t the Jedi.

“…Mace was…” he let out a harsh breath and chewed his tongue. “He was just about the purest thing in the universe. Iza doted on him like no other. If anything could ever keep her balanced better than I could, it would’ve been him.”

“How much has she changed?”

“She’s unstable,” Catcher scoffed, letting go of the bottle to run his fingers through his hair. “She says she’s not, but I know her. Seeing you again hasn’t helped.”

“You can’t blame me—”

“ _Why not?_ ” turning on his stool, Catcher set his dark eyes on Obi-Wan and the older man realized just how big the Clone really was in comparison. “Her heart is _broken_ , Obi-Wan. You sent Rex and Ahsoka to find her and you picked open old wounds that both of us spent a lot of time trying to heal. _You_ put the **thing** we weren’t supposed to speak of _back_ into her head and it _shattered_ her.” Pointing a finger at him, Catcher thumped at the Jedi’s chest. “ _You_ gave no thought to her suffering—same as always. So excuse me if I feel like you’re the root of the problem.”

The Clone got to his feet and tossed a few credits onto the counter, still giving Obi-Wan a rather sour look.

“I’m only going to tell you one more time— _stay away from my wife_. I should knock you into next week for doing what you did but since someone has to be the civilized one here, _I won’t_.”

“I only wanted to _help_ her, Catcher,” Obi-Wan couldn’t let the man leave without letting him know that. “My intentions were not to do any harm, I swear to you.”

“You wanted to _help?_ ” Pausing, the taller man narrowed his eyes and let out a dry, humorless laugh. “By forcing a kiss from my wife? Tell me how the _hell_ that would help her, Kenobi.”

“I didn’t mean—you misunderstand.” Bringing his hands up defensively in some attempt to try and calm the situation, the Jedi was all-too aware of the fact that the whole room seemed to be watching them now. “My actions were not out of malice, Catcher. I sent Rex and Ahsoka because I felt a lot of despair in your wife the night your son died. I was afraid for her and what it might do to her. This is not what I wanted.”

“And telling her about Malkal? What sort of intentions did you have there?”

“That… was a very poor decision on my part.” Wetting his bottom lip with the end of his tongue, Obi-Wan made a face like he regretted every part of the choice he’d made to restore that memory. “But she was under the impression that I had done something vile to her. I couldn’t let her think such a thing. I would _never_ —”

“But you would break her mind.” Catcher accused, giving him a disgusted look. “You would rather put something back that had been taken away to ease her suffering than you would to just let her believe that you’re as much of a monster as she believes you to be. Face it, man. You’re just as terrible as she makes you out to be.”

“That memory should never have been removed in the first place and you know it.” He wasn’t sure why he kept arguing when he knew that Catcher was quite close to getting violent with him. Obi-Wan would happily defend himself if he needed to, but he had a bad feeling about what might happen if he actually harmed Iza’s husband. “ _All_ of us disagreed with Master Windu’s decision to wipe it. It would have been better to help her find a way to overcome it like a _Jedi_ , not let her run away from it like a child.”

“You better watch your damn mouth,” shoving his finger into Obi-Wan’s face, the Clone’s voice dropped dangerously low. “You’re pushing it.”

“Jedi are not meant to harbor their emotions, even in times like that. You take it, you acknowledge it and you move past it. Iza was strong enough. She could have—”

“You didn’t see her once during the trip home. You stayed set up nice and tight in your quarters while I spent the entire time trying to comfort her. Do you know how _hard_ that was? Do you know how it feels to wake up to someone screaming over nightmares you can’t explain to them?” After a moment or two of seething, a dark look crossed Catcher’s face before he snorted. “You’ve never loved anybody in your life, have you? _Of course_ you wouldn’t understand the agony of having to see Iza suffer.”

And that was when he took his leave, turning on his heel and walking straight out of the bar without another damn word. _Stars_ , the two were so damn similar it was frightening. Obi-Wan could see now why Windu had tried to keep them apart. Sighing heavily once the other man was gone, he turned back to his drink and stared down into it, wondering faintly if Catcher was right. Well—wondering if he was right about _some_ things. The Clone had been very, very wrong about a lot of what he’d said. Obi-Wan had loved before, but it wasn’t something he brought up in casual conversation. It really wasn’t something he brought up _at all_ if he could help it. But nobody needed to know anything about it, so he _didn’t_ bring it up.

Bringing up their son had _definitely_ been the wrong thing to do, too. The two men had been chatting quite pleasantly up until then and Obi-Wan felt guilty for that. He supposed he really had no business to even speak about the boy, but he’d been so caught up in trying to get the information that he wanted that he’d become careless about _tact_. Damn—Anakin had rubbed off on him _hard_ , hadn’t he? He only hoped that Catcher wouldn’t go home and tell Iza. The last thing he needed tonight was another visit from the woman. He wanted a chance to rest and gather his thoughts a little more before he had to deal with her again.

Paying for his drinks, he got up to leave and stopped dead when he saw Master Windu glaring at him from the corner of the room. Anakin and Ahsoka sat in a booth nearby, both wearing looks of uncertainty as they eyed him up and down, but he wasn’t too concerned with them at the moment.

It was that piercing look he was getting from Windu that worried him. He had a feeling he was in some serious trouble and there was nothing he could do but surrender.

~*~*~*~

“I think I handed the responsibility for my apprentice over to the wrong person.” Windu’s voice was eerily calm as he walked beside Obi-Wan, taking in the sights of the forest outside of the city. “Maybe I was foolish to trust you.”

“Sir,”

“Iza was meant for better things than this.” Shaking his head as he looked to the stars, the elder Jedi heaved a sigh.

“Sir, please,”

“I am not interested in your explanations, Kenobi.” A sidelong glance was given before Windu’s eyes were set on the stars once more. “Your excuses do not change the outcome.”

“I only want to ask you something, sir,” Obi-Wan finally managed to get out, standing in front of the older man to keep him from walking any further.

Staring down at him the way one might do to a child preventing them from their work, Windu silently mulled this over before giving him a nod to allow him to speak.

“How long have you known? About Iza?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern, Kenobi. Unlike you and Skywalker, I have no desire to air out all of the secrets kept between myself and my apprentice.”

“But you _knew_ , sir. You knew she was going to have a Fall and you didn’t do anything to stop it.”

“No,” Windu gave him a look that sent an odd chill down the younger man’s spine. “I knew she would find _balance_ , Kenobi. The journey of a Padawan is to become a better Jedi than their master, is it not?”

“But she isn’t a _Jedi_ , Master Windu.”

“It’s true that Iza Tacor has denounced the beliefs we hold.” Nodding a little, Windu turned a hand up. “But do you see her using her Dark Side powers freely? Have we been called to subdue her and bring her to trial for any crimes?” Raising a brow, he seemed to smirk. “I understand she’s been playing games with your head. Perhaps it was unwise for you to keep such a tight grip on that Bond when she asked you numerous times to unlink it.”

“Master Windu, you know as well as I do that it isn’t _that_ easy,” Obi-Wan didn’t mean to sound so impatient. “She’s blaming me for something I didn’t do.”

“Didn’t you?”

“What?”

“When I assigned her to you after her accident, I entrusted you to keep an eye on her. I warned you quite heavily that she was experiencing a shift that I thought maybe _you_ could help her with. After all,” that smirk turned bitter, suddenly. “You’ve been perfectly adept at keeping Anakin under control, with some minor instances. I figured this would be something you’d be better suited for than I was. I was clearly mistaken.”

Obi-Wan felt like he’d been punched from all sides. _Honestly_ , were they all just going to take turns telling him that all of this was his fault?

“Don’t look so put out, Kenobi.” Walking around the other Jedi to continue down the trail they were taking, Windu dismissively waved a hand. “It was part of the journey she needed to take. I could not push her the way you did.”

“ **Couldn’t** or _didn’t want to_?”

This made the other man stop mid-step and stand up a little straighter. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if he was angry or offended or both; it was kind of hard to tell when someone’s back was turned on him.

“It was not my responsibility to push her. Only to make sure she was ready when the time came.”

“So you put that on _me?_ ”

“No,” he’d started walking again, seemingly unwilling to turn around and look at the other man. “I’d thought it would happen much sooner. That Clone of hers—she was attached in a way that would’ve given her the same push she needed. When you told me he’d been reassigned to another battalion, I tried to prepare myself for the follow-up. But she surprised me when she went into meditative stasis.”

“Is that what happened to her?” Obi-Wan hadn’t ever asked Iza what she’d done during that time Catcher was gone. Ahsoka and Anakin had been the only ones to check on her and bring meals; _Stars_ , he really was a bastard, wasn’t he?

“Iza never was a fan of the way we handled matters of the heart. She would bottle things up so tight at times that she would get terrible headaches and would need to end lessons early.” Windu stopped walking near the edge of a lake that had come into view, staring out at the water thoughtfully. “I had to coax her into sharing those things with me to teach her how to move beyond them and to use certain ones to her advantage. I’m sure she kept some from me, of course.”

 _Boy_ , if this man only knew.

“Deep meditation was the only way she knew how to deal with certain things after I stopped letting her see Catcher. I couldn’t let her get too close, as I’m sure you understand. A girl’s heart is much harder to control than a boy’s.” Now the man made a face like he was remembering exactly how difficult those times had been and a soft snort escaped him. “I just never expected you to be so careless with her.”

“How was I careless?!” Coming up beside the other man, Obi-Wan tried to get him to look in his direction and was unsuccessful. He doubted that Windu would look at him even if he were to physically make an attempt for some sort of eye contact. “I did nothing but watch that girl like a surveillance droid! I treated her the same way I treated Anakin—no special _anything_.”

“And yet—” pivoting, Windu finally gave Obi-Wan the eye contact he so desperately wanted, only he seemed to stare right through him as he did so. “—you brought her back to me in _pieces_. I wanted you to push her, Obi-Wan. Not break her spirit.”

“None of that was my fault! Everybody blames me like I paid Malkal to do what he did. I took my eyes off her for _one_ minute—”

“One minute too long in a situation like that.”

“ _She_ was the foolish one for—”

“I know you told her to drink it, Kenobi.” Windu’s flat tone shut him right the hell up. “I saw everything in her mind’s eye. Why do you think I wanted it _out_ of her head? If she walked around with something like that in her head and showed signs of discomfort around _you_ in the Temple, what do you think the Council would do?”

“You didn’t do it to spare her?”

Windu didn’t say anything for a long moment, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I suppose not.” Something about that statement felt like a lie.

“Iza didn’t Fall until the day Catcher almost died,” Obi-Wan didn’t want to test Windu’s patience by calling him out. “How would that be my fault?”

Again, those dark eyes of the Jedi Master fixed on him and an expression of light disgust followed.

“I have a feeling she was gone just before she left on the mission you were never supposed to take her on. Must’ve been the dreams.”

 _Force_. So, Iza had tattled on him after all.

“In any case,” Windu had started to walk again, although he didn’t go very far before he stopped and waved a hand. “You need to accept that this was part of what needed to happen for her. Just accept it and move on, Kenobi. Your job is done.”

“So I’m just supposed to walk away from all of this now?” _Hah_ , as if he could. “You said she wasn’t using her Dark Side powers freely—what do you call what she’s doing to me?”

“I would not put the full blame on my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Windu’s voice was calm as he turned to start heading back down the path leading into the city. “Iza may be testing you—or she may be showing you something that has always been there. It’s up to you to choose how to combat it.”

“Then _why_ did you come here?” Scowling at the older man’s back as he hurried to catch up, Obi-Wan wished that the bastard would just stop and have a proper conversation for one damn minute.

“To make sure she doesn’t _kill_ you.” A pointed look was shot at him before Windu pressed his lips into a thin line. “You’ve tipped her out of her balanced state, Kenobi. If I cannot convince you to return to Coruscant with us, then I fear she will get worse and _then_ we will have a problem on our hands.”

“How much of a problem, sir?” he really didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’m not sure.” Windu murmured, sighing. “But I think it’s about time I paid her a visit to find out.”


	6. You Had No Mercy For Me

“You’re doing it again.” Catcher hoped his tone wasn’t _too_ accusatory as he came into the back room to find his wife sitting cross-legged with her back straight and facing the door. “Little Bit, you’re going to put yourself into another stasis.”

“Maybe I want to,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes shut. She could feel him as he walked around her in a full circle and practically sense his sigh before he sat down in front of her. “Don’t touch, love.”

Pausing with his hand outstretched towards her face, Catcher couldn’t help smirking in amusement.

“It scares me when you do that, you know,” wagging his finger at her, the Clone leaned back to look her over for a minute before crossing his legs and propping his chin in his hand. “Is it that bad?”

“Not anymore,” finally opening her eyes to look at him, Iza smiled and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “It was just taking a little longer to center myself than I would have preferred.”

“Is it him?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure.”

“Iza,” Catcher seemed to hesitate while searching for the right words to say. “You would tell me if you felt like you were tipping too far, right?”

The smile Iza gave him was soft and she broke out of her pose to crawl across the space between them to nestle herself into his lap. Resting her head on his shoulder, the brunette pressed a kiss to Catcher’s chin and nodded.

“Of course I would. I know how much it bothered you before, and I promised I wouldn’t let it get that bad ever again, didn’t I?”

“Yes you did.” Resting his head against hers, Catcher wound his arms around her tightly.

“I would not keep this a secret from you, Catch.”

“I believe you,” he _did_ , honestly. But there were things eating at him from the conversation he’d had with Obi-Wan that he wanted to bring up _so badly_. He just didn’t know how to do it. “Little Bit?”

“Hm?” she’d closed her eyes again and he couldn’t tell if she was deep in thought or half asleep.

“Have you been meddling with Obi-Wan’s head?”

“Pardon?” Leaning away from him to stare, Iza blinked like she hadn’t quite heard him. “What would ever give you that idea, Catcher?”

He hesitated, still not sure how the hell to approach this.

“I spoke to him. Man to man.” Yeah, that was going to go over well. “And I gave him a chance to say what he wanted to say. It _doesn’t_ mean that I believe any of it—I just…”

“Want to make sure I’m not running off into the Dark Side and not telling you?” Iza snapped, moving to get up from his lap. Letting out a low grumble when he took hold of her tunic and pulled her back, the brunette gave him a hard look and folded her arms tight across his chest. “I haven’t done anything he didn’t do to _me_ first.”

“So, you _have_ been influencing him?”

“ _No_ ,” she paused, “Not exactly.”

“Explain it to me, then.”

“Why is it of such concern to you, Catcher?” Turning around to face him, Iza gave him that sweet little pout she always did when she wanted to get her way. It had a pretty good track record, so she was banking on it. “I have not harmed him, nor have I harmed another person in the city. Considering all he’s done to me, I think a little bit of mind trickery is well deserved.”

“Little Bit,” gently taking hold of her chin, Catcher fixed her with a stern look and shook his head. “Do you really want to be playing his game?”

“I want him to suffer,” she answered in a flat tone, shrugging her shoulders. “I haven’t touched a single one of the Dark Side powers you witnessed before. I swear on it. I’m only taunting him.”

The Clone looked as though he wasn’t sure how he wanted to respond to that. On the one hand, he’d _kindly_ asked her not to reach for that side of herself on purpose. On the other—he did feel as though Obi-Wan deserved _some_ kind of retribution for the pain he’d caused her. It was a very difficult decision to make for someone who’d sworn themselves to a pacifistic lifestyle, especially when he’d wanted to knock the man’s teeth out several times during their conversation.

“ _Catcher_ ,” she was _really_ pouting now, leaning back in and kissing at his jawline. _Stars_ , he hated how much of a sucker he was for that sometimes. “I promise I’ve behaved.”

“Don’t say it like that,” he muttered, exhaling sharply. “Iza, I believe you, but I think it would be best to just stop. If he tells Master Windu, Force knows what will happen.”

“Master Windu would not take his side.” She looked a little put out that her advances were being brushed off so easily. “Master Windu would not involve himself at all unless he thought Obi-Wan was in true danger.”

“Is that, perhaps, why he’s on his way here?”

Again, Iza fell silent as she stared back at her husband as if to ask how he knew that. She hadn’t told him how she knew of her Master’s approaching arrival. Realizing that Obi-Wan must’ve said something, her expression went sour and she turned herself away from him again.

“Are you irritated with me now, Little Bit?” his tone was light and the brush of his fingers was gentle along her lower back, but still Iza didn’t turn to look at him. “Iza,”

“I’ve done _nothing_ wrong.” She bit out, folding her arms tight across her chest. “He gets what he deserves. If he can’t handle his own truths, that’s on him.”

Resting his chin on her shoulder, Catcher hummed quietly and looped his arms around her middle, choosing to simply hold her for a short while until she eventually relented and settled back into him. He knew he couldn’t blame her for wanting her revenge, but he couldn’t quite agree with her statement of having done _nothing wrong_. If Obi-Wan was her target, then she should leave Ahsoka out of it. The Jedi had said something about causing doubt within the Padawan and Catcher couldn’t find any reason to find that fair.

“You’re overthinking,” Iza said quietly, tilting her head back to kiss his cheek. “Why? What’s in that head of yours?”

“Can’t you look for yourself?” Their weak Bond made it easy for her to pry; he never understood why she chose not to.

“Catch,” reaching up, she nudged his chin up from her shoulder and tilted her head to look at him. “I would much rather let you tell me. I don’t like snooping.”

This was one of those times where he wished she would.

“I don’t want you to get mad,”

“I won’t get mad.”

“Did you influence Ahsoka, too?”

Green eyes went wide for a moment and she looked as though she wanted to hit— _something_. Not him; most definitely not him. But she was not pleased by this question in the slightest. Giving a hard shake of her head and an indignant snort, Iza folded her arms again.

“ _No_.”

That was enough to satisfy him. She would not react in such a way if she were lying. Obi-Wan must’ve had his signals crossed or something to think that Ahsoka had somehow been influenced by his wife in a negative way. She _was_ Anakin’s Padawan after all, and being suspicious of things was in that man’s nature. It wouldn’t surprise him a bit if it’d rubbed off on Ahsoka.

“You said you wouldn’t get mad,” he teased lightly, kissing the side of her head.

“I’m not mad,” she mumbled back, looking very put out despite what she was saying. “Not with you, anyway.”

“Little Bit,” he could only drop his head and bury his face in her neck, sighing heavily against her skin. “Sweetheart, please. I know things have been incredibly rough for us lately, and I would love _nothing_ more for all of it to go away. But you know I cannot help you if you act so stubborn about it.”

“I just want to be left alone,” worried that he might take that the wrong way, she leaned back into him so he wouldn’t try to get up and walk off. “I want that man to _leave_ and never come back.”

“I tried. I did, Little Bit.”

“Maybe I should do it—”

“ _Absolutely not_.” He sounded just as stern as he looked, giving her a good stare down when she looked up at him with an eyebrow raised at the tone of his voice. “You promised.”

“Well, he isn’t going to go _willingly_ , is he?”

“ _Iza,_ ”

“For stars’ sake, Catcher!” Turning away as best as she could while trapped in his arms the way she was, Iza stared hard at the wall and huffed. She ignored his attempts to try and soothe her with kisses and gentle squeezes, although she did tilt her head for him when he tried his favorite tactic of kissing that one spot on her neck. It may have relaxed her a little, but did nothing to make her look back at him.

“You said you wouldn’t be mad,” he repeated, brushing the hair away from her face. “Little Bit, you have to know that I’m on your side about this.”

“He doesn’t know when to give up unless someone _makes_ him,” Iza muttered, still refusing to look at her husband. “No one else on this planet is going to do it. Why not me?”

“Sweetheart,” he wished she’d look at him. “It’s for your own good.”

“Is it?” Finally turning back to him, Iza locked her gaze with Catcher’s and frowned hard. “Is it really for my own good to have to sit and meditate for five hours to get him out of my head when I could just as easily go out and take care of the problem in less than _one?_ ”

“Iza—”

“I wouldn’t _kill_ him. I wouldn’t even _hurt_ him.” Throwing her hands out, she let them fall back onto her lap with a grumble. “I just wanna make him go away.”

“Why don’t you ask for help, first?” Stroking his thumb along the curve of her jaw, Catcher tried to resist the urge he had to continue arguing and telling her that she couldn’t send Obi-Wan packing the way she wanted to. Fighting led to sparking her temper, and sparking her temper led to causing even more of a shift in her balance. He wasn’t going to be the one who tipped the scale the rest of the way, no sir. “ _Ask_ Master Windu if he will make Obi-Wan leave before you go making moves of your own.”

Biting down on her tongue as she looked away again for a brief moment, Catcher had to bat her fingers away from the ends of her hair so she wouldn’t start tugging at it. _Nope_. He’d worked hard to help break her of that habit. He wasn’t going to let her start up again.

“Fine,” giving a relenting sort of sigh, Iza affectionately knocked her head against his and huffed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m doing it _my_ way.”

“Okay,” they would only keep going around in circles if he didn’t yield. He didn’t want to, and he was sure she knew it, but there was no other choice. Iza would likely go ahead and do it anyway if she got angry enough. Pressing a kiss to the side of her head, he sighed into her hair and nodded. “But only if you keep to your promise of _not_ hurting him.”

“I won’t hurt him.”

“Thank you.”

Making a face, she turned and kissed his nose before giving him a little nudge so he’d loosen his hold on her.

“Going somewhere?” A faint smirk lifted the corner of Catcher’s mouth as he held on tighter to her and dropped his head to kiss that spot on her neck again.

“As much as I would love a cool-down session right now, my love,” Iza sounded like she was trying _really_ hard not to give in to him, even as she settled back against his chest and reached up to run her fingers through his hair and scratch lazily at his scalp. “I do believe we’re about to have company.”

“Company?”

“Mm,” nodding her head towards the front of the house, she sighed heavily. “It’s exactly the person I need to see right now, too. Which is kind of unfortunate. I was hoping to prepare something to say to him after all of this time.”

“Oh,” now he knew who she meant. Planting one last kiss to her cheek, Catcher smiled and let his arms fall away so Iza could get up, his smile widening when she first turned and kissed him properly. “You better go before I decide to make him wait.”

“Catcher,” Iza laughed as she braced her hands on his shoulders to stand. “Nobody makes Master Windu wait for _anything_. You know that.”

Taking the hand she offered to help him to his feet, he gave a look that said he knew _exactly_ that and let his hand slip to give her backside a little pat.

“Go on. I’ll get the good stuff out of the basement.”

Stealing one last kiss for good measure, Iza took a deep breath to ready herself and headed out of the meditation room. She waited for a few moments before crossing to the front door and opening it, finding her Master standing on the other side looking a bit surprised. It was almost as if he hadn’t expected her to just _answer_ without prompt. For a long time, the two just stared at each other, silently taking in the little changes that had happened over the last three years of not seeing one another. He didn’t look any older—surprisingly—and he looked just as surly as ever. It took a lot of self-control on her part to not step forward and try to hug him; Master Windu had never been a fan of such displays of affection. But _stars_ —she’d just missed him so much. Quite possibly the most out of everyone back on Coruscant.

“Master Windu,” she hoped he would dismiss the way her voice cracked and the fact that her eyes seemed to have chosen then to begin to water. “Please, come in.”

Stepping aside for him, Iza pressed her lips together tightly as he brushed past her. He removed his boots without having to be prompted and looked around without a word before settling in a spot on the couch. She was sure he was silently judging the amount of material possessions she and Catcher had accumulated over the years, or maybe he was looking for something specific? When she turned to join him in the other room, she found he’d moved a photo from the shelf and was looking it over with a kind of curiosity in his features that she’d never seen before.

“Is this your son?” He asked quietly, bringing his eyes up to meet hers.

 _Nope_. Keeping her composure wasn’t going to happen. She always felt so shameful whenever she couldn’t control her tears in front of him and she hoped he would forgive her for it just this once.

“Yeah,” coming over, she took the frame when he held it out to her, looking back into the hazel eyes of her baby boy. “That’s my Mace.”

She didn’t see him flinch, but she did hear the rush of breath that left him.

“You have my deepest condolences, Iza.” His tone was a bit on the flat side, but the words carried the emotion all the same.

“Master,” she wasn’t sure why she knelt on the carpet beside where he was sitting, or why she put her clasped hands above her head in a pleading gesture, but it felt like the right thing to do as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to keep her voice steady. “I am _so_ sorry I failed you. I should have come home. I should have explained. I was so scared and we just wanted to get away. Please, _please_ forgive me for shaming you, Master Windu.”

“Don’t do that,” he sounded impatient, but the hand he placed on her shoulder was gentle. “Tacor, don’t do that.”

Picking her head up, Iza covered her face before he could see how red and wet with tears it had become. When was the last time she’d cried in front of him? It had to have been before the Trials, when he’d told her she wasn’t allowed to go see Catcher anymore. She’d only been upset because of the headaches. Catcher had a way of getting rid of them that no amount of meditation or other relaxation could, but her Master had believed there to be _another_ reason his young Padawan was sneaking down into the barracks at strange hours. He hadn’t even scolded her back then—he’d never scolded her if he could help it because it just wasn’t how he operated—but she’d been so upset because he didn’t _understand_ , and he wouldn’t listen to her.

“I worked so _hard_ , Master!” Dropping her hands, she scrubbed the dampness off on her trousers and refused to look at him. “I worked so hard to do everything right. I followed everything you taught me and I still failed you!”

“Calm yourself,” a second hand was placed on her other shoulder and a firm squeeze was given to both. “Remember to use your deep breathing, Iza.”

Clenching her teeth together the brunette did as he advised, taking in slow breaths through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. It wasn’t nearly as effective as she would’ve liked for it to be, but at least it distracted her enough to make her stop crying. When she was able to finally bring herself to look up at him, Windu didn’t seem concerned in the least. Had it been Obi-Wan in his place, the man likely would’ve been twisting his robes into knots over the idea that her fit was induced by her _other_ side.

Not Windu. That look in his eye said he knew better.

“Please get off the floor. There’s no need for any of this.”

Nodding, Iza took her time getting to her feet and used the bottom of her tunic to dry her face. What a damn dramatic display that’d been; she should behave less like a child in front of him.

“Now, I don’t know what gave you the impression that you failed me, Tacor,” Windu’s tone was casual, as though he hadn’t just witnessed her breaking down and begging for his forgiveness. “You seem to be doing about as well as I hoped you’d be.”

“Sir?” She was confused. Was he not ashamed of her for running away from the Order? For letting herself be swept over into the Dark Side?

He sighed and gestured to the seat beside him, waiting for her to join him on the couch before he’d continue.

“For someone who has Fallen to the Dark Side the way you have, you’ve got remarkable control. You came to Coruscant recently and not _one_ of us felt an ounce of it.” His gaze never left her and the expression on his face never changed, but Iza _swore_ he’d given the briefest of smiles. “I wouldn’t consider something like that to be _failure_ , would you?”

Was this a compliment? Was Master Windu _actually_ paying her a compliment?

“I’ve never been blind to the turmoil inside of you, Tacor, despite what you may believe. I did what I could to protect you from things that might prematurely trigger that Darkness, but I always knew this would be your fate.”

“You did nothing to change it? Why?”

He gave a simple shrug.

“My purpose was to guide you. The techniques I taught you were meant to take your most negative of feelings and turn them into something useful. You took that a step further and found _balance_ with them. What sort of Master would I be to hinder your growth, Tacor?”

“You’re not making sense, Master Windu,” shutting her eyes with a brief shake of her head, Iza frowned lightly. “You’re _proud_ of me for going to the Dark Side?”

“I’m proud of you for taking your situation into your own hands and not losing yourself entirely. You’re no longer fit to be a Jedi—but you’re no Sith, either.”

“The grey area doesn’t exist in the eyes of the Order,” why was she pressing so hard for him to get angry at her? She couldn’t understand why the hell he seemed so calm about this. “It’s either Dark, or it’s Light. There’s no in between.”

“But it exists in _your_ eyes, doesn’t it? You’re not a Jedi, Tacor. The opinions of the Order and Council no longer apply to you.”

“Then why should I care about what **you** have to say? If your opinion no longer matters, why should I listen to you?”

He smiled then; it was a strange sight for her to see when she was so used to him remaining relatively placid all the time.

“That’s not a question I can answer for you.”

Running frustrated fingers into her hair, Iza _would_ have given a tug to her roots if Catcher hadn’t walked in and whistled sharply through his teeth to startle her out of doing it.

“Hey— _none of that_.” He would’ve wagged a finger at her if his hands weren’t full with the drinks he carried. “Just because I’m not in the room doesn’t mean you can start that up again, Little Bit.”

Giving him a hard look, Iza huffed and sat back in her spot.

“Master, you remember Catcher?”

“Of course,” how could he forget _this_ particular Clone?

“Sir,” giving a nod as he offered a bottle of their home brew, Catcher was happy to pass it off to Iza when it was declined. Watching as his wife took a quick pull he sat across from them on a round cushion and glanced between them, though he said nothing.

“What do _you_ believe, Master Windu?” Iza asked, looking over at him. “What do you _truly_ believe?”

“We’ve had this discussion once before, Tacor. I believe I gave you my answer quite clearly back then.”

“Then how is it that you can sit there and be proud of me for doing this? How can you claim that I haven’t failed you when your morals are still so deeply rooted in the Jedi Code that it should be _impossible_ for you to even think such a thing?”

Windu took a moment to gather his thoughts, something he didn’t do very often. The man was typically quite quick to have answers to most of her questions. After mulling it over, he looked back at her and turned a hand up.

“You forget so quickly that I was the one who taught you how to harness your negativity for better use. Just because I walk the Lighter path doesn’t mean I can’t believe in a middle ground. I choose to stay where I am, Tacor. This is my fate. This is what the Force chose for me.” Gesturing to her and then to Catcher, he set his hand back in his lap. “And this is what the Force chose for you.”

She wanted to yell. Iza wanted to throw her bottle of home brew across the room and scream curse words until he’d break that too-calm composure of his and tell her how he _truly_ felt. There was no way in hell that this man was at peace with what she’d become. She wouldn’t believe it— _couldn’t_ believe it. There had to be _some_ kind of frustration or disappointment bubbling underneath the surface somewhere. There just had to be.

“ _Iza_ ,” Catcher’s hand was suddenly wrapped around one of her wrists, jolting her back to the present to find that she’d begun to tug at that patch of hair behind her ear where her Padawan braid once hung. He didn’t look angry or disappointed, just concerned. “Little Bit, relax.”

“He’s _lying_ ,” she bit out, looking extremely frustrated before looking over at Windu with that same expression. “ _You’re lying_.”

“Have I ever lied to you, Tacor?” Windu didn’t seem terribly offended by this. _Man_ , this guy was like a damn rock. “You know good and well that I only ever speak the truth to you.”

“Why can’t you just be _disappointed?_ Why can’t you look at me in shame the same way—”

“The same way Obi-Wan does?” He gave a tilt of his head, a brow going up. “Because I harbor none of those feelings. I have no reason to.”

She was going to start crying again and for a minute she was actually mad at the fact that Catcher was still holding onto her and she couldn’t pull at her hair. A hot pressure was beginning to build in her chest and she was trying her damn best to keep it from bursting out; she couldn’t lose control in front of him. Not after he’d told her how proud he was of her.

“I _shamed_ you,” she let Catcher take the bottle from her and set it aside, feeling him lace his fingers between hers in another attempt to stop her from pulling at her hair. “How can you just let that go?”

“You did as you were meant to do, Tacor,” as much as this man hated repeating himself, he would make an exception for his former apprentice. “I would not have held you back from your destiny even if I could.”

“You should have helped me!” Tugging against Catcher’s hold, she let out a grunt when the Clone had to drop his hold on her hands and throw his arms around her to keep her back. “You should have _saved me!_ ”

Windu barely even moved. His ever-stoic expression became a little concerned for about half a second, but he stayed rooted in his seat.

“You should have saved yourself instead of expecting others to do it for you.”

Iza stiffened in Catcher’s arms, the room starting to get warmer as the seconds ticked by. Master Windu continued to remain unfazed, though he did appear to be studying her with ever-growing curiosity the longer this went on.

“I taught you not to rely on others, Tacor,” he said slowly, looking as though he wanted to test how far he might be able to push her temper. “Your first mistake was relying on your Clone to ease your headaches. That’s when I knew my vision for you was coming true.”

“Sir,” Catcher wouldn’t be able to hold onto Iza if she was poked too much and the last thing they needed was a dead Jedi Master in their house. “I don’t think—”

“Your second mistake was not finding your own way out of the mess you made of your first mission. Once again, you relied on others to do it for you and it nearly cost you your life.”

“ _Sir—_ ”

“I may be proud of you for your accomplishments, Tacor, but your mistakes are what led you here. They were always going to lead you here. It was out of my hands.” Getting to his feet, Master Windu began to walk towards where he’d left his boots. He could sense Iza’s anger beginning to turn into something worse—which had been the whole point. He’d wanted a chance to touch her Darkness and see exactly what he might be dealing with if Obi-Wan sent her careening over the edge. “I have already accepted this. It’s about time you did, too.”

“You _coward!_ ” Iza pulled hard at the hold Catcher had on her, trying to resist the urge she had to use her Force abilities on him. She absolutely refused to hurt him. “You fall back on your damned Code to hide your guilt! You _know_ you should have done something and you _didn’t!_ You would take memories from me to stop me from suffering but you say your job wasn’t to save me?” She was really struggling now and the Clone had to tighten his grip in a way that would leave bruises later. “You sat up nice and pretty in that _kriffing_ tower and you _allowed_ this to happen when you could have stopped it all! You threw me to Obi-Wan like I was no longer of worth to you. It’s _your_ fault this happened to me!”

“Perhaps,” he turned a hand up, looking as though she wasn’t accusing him of causing her Fall. “Or perhaps you’re just looking to place blame on anyone but yourself.”

Iza bared her teeth at him like a rabid animal, twisting in Catcher’s hold and letting out a disgruntled yell when he refused to let go. The bottles that had been brought into the living room all exploded at once, raining glass and ale down on them—but he still refused to let go.

“Calm yourself, Tacor,” Windu said quietly, moving to let himself out. “You’re going to hurt that Clone.”

It was like someone flipped a switch somewhere in her head and snapped her back to her senses. Master Windu had already made his exit before she could say anything, but her attention quickly turned to Catcher. He was panting lightly in her ear as he held onto her, still squeezing as though he wasn’t sure whether or not it was safe to let go. Making an attempt to reach up and touch his face, Iza flinched horribly when she saw the blood staining the tips of her fingers, sick to her stomach when she looked down to see that she’d scratched him so hard she’d left deep lines in his forearms.

“ _Oh, **Catch** ,_”

“I’m fine,” he huffed into her ear, pressing his face against her neck. “I’m fine, Little Bit.”

“What did I do?” Looking to her hands and back to the wounds, she felt him squeeze her in a more affectionate manner around her middle, but it didn’t help. “Catcher, I’m so sorry…”

“Iza,” slowly, the Clone loosened his hold on her and turned her around in his arms to gather her against his chest. “It’s okay. I swear.”

“How can you say that?” Brandishing her hands at him, she forced herself to ignore the reassuring kisses he tried to press to her face. “Catcher— _I hurt you_.”

“Iza,” he couldn’t do this with her now. He was so _kriffing_ pissed off at her former Master for aggravating her that he couldn’t think straight. Yes, his arms burned like crazy from the marks, but he’d been through _much_ worse. Bringing his hands up to cup her face and rest his forehead to hers, he swept away the tears from beneath her eyes and kissed her as gently as he could with all of that rage flowing through him.

“ _Be quiet_.”


	7. Dance With the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lil bit spicy, but not graphic.

A month passed. Then two. And by the middle of the third month, Obi-Wan _still_ had not been able to get Iza out of his mind. He’d been advised _heavily_ by Master Windu to leave Alderaan and there’d been just enough concern in the older man’s voice for him to relent. If Windu wasn’t interested in involving himself with Iza and her plight after seeing her then there was either no cause for him to worry, or there was _plenty_ to worry about and Windu wasn’t going to give him an inch of space to argue about it. So he’d left and he’d done his best to try and push her to the furthest parts of his mind so he could concentrate on his work. It got a little easier with each assignment he took, but she was still always _there_. Like a dull headache he could never quite get rid of she sat in the back of his brain, occasionally sending doubt coursing through him and making him wonder if he’d done the right thing by leaving. He could have stayed, could have worked something out with her. Maybe she could have helped _him_ understand his thoughts a little better, too. He would never go traipsing into the Dark the way she had, but now he wondered if the Grey Area was real; she was the only one who truly knew.

He’d taken an assignment on Ralltiir to help settle a dispute that, honestly, he felt did not need the aid of a Jedi. But he’d taken it anyway because it kept his mind off of other things and it would give him time away from the ever-watchful eyes of Anakin and Ahsoka. Those two had become extremely wary of him since the visit to Alderaan, though they seemed to think he couldn’t tell. It had amused him at first whenever Anakin would double check the ship’s coordinates upon his return from assignments; now it just irritated him. He didn’t like feeling as though he wasn’t being trusted not to go back to Alderaan. Ahsoka rarely spoke to him anymore unless she had to and while she was still very polite in her demeanor, he could see in her eyes that the trust she’d had in him was broken. He’d _really_ messed up by not telling them the truth in the first place, hadn’t he?

They never said it outright, but he knew they must’ve heard bits and pieces of the conversation that he’d had with Catcher as well. He knew for damn sure that Master Windu had listened in on the entire thing. They had to know that he’d been made to question himself, and that he’d—in retaliation—restored a memory Iza was never supposed to see again in her lifetime. Maybe that was why Anakin often gave him strange looks when he thought he wasn’t looking. Knowing where the boy came from and the things he must’ve seen as a child, he was probably disappointed to know that his Master would willingly put that sort of suffering back into someone’s head. Obi-Wan couldn’t blame him; he was pretty disgusted with himself, too.

He wasn’t set to meet with his contact until the next day and sleep was hardly an option at the hour he’d arrived, so _of course_ the option he chose was to sit in a bar. He’d gotten food the minute he arrived—nutritional bars had lost their appeal long before the war even ended—and found himself with nothing else to do with his time. A drink wouldn’t hurt and he could still turn in early enough to wake in time for the meeting. Perhaps he would’ve done better than to choose a nightclub to sit in and have a drink, but it didn’t appear that there were any other options within walking distance of where he needed to be. The music was loud and a little annoying, but he did his best to drown it out while occasionally letting his eyes drift around the room out of habit. Every so often, they’d settle on a figure leaning up against the very end of the bar with their back to him.

Something about the petite frame was familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Each time he looked over, she’d shifted her position, but never enough for him to get a look at her face. That was fine; he could quietly enjoy the view and admire the way her silver dress flowed over her form like water. It wasn’t _proper_ , but he was only looking. There was no harm in that. Still—he couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew this person the longer he stared. It was almost like he’d seen those curves framed in a similar manner before, and it was driving him crazy that he couldn’t figure out _where_.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the droid behind the counter when it set a drink in front of him; an expensive looking whiskey that he hadn’t ordered.

“This isn’t mine,” Obi-Wan tried to nudge it back but the droid’s head swiveled back and forth.

“Compliments of the young lady.” It buzzed, wheeling off to go serve someone else.

Turning to see just which young lady the droid was talking about—it wasn’t uncommon for women to buy him drinks, after all—he found himself unable to find a single one willing to take responsibility. Well, _now_ he wasn’t sure if he wanted to drink this. The people of this planet were relatively content with the Jedi, but there were still plenty out there who would like to see them all destroyed. Obi-Wan could have a bounty on his head and not even know it, considering all of the people he’d helped to put away during the war. Looking into the glass again, he frowned lightly and lifted it to take a cautious sniff. It _smelled_ like whiskey, if not a bit spicy. He knew there were plenty of odorless powders and poisons that could’ve been mixed into this that would knock him dead within seconds and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the chance.

“Still don’t trust me, do you?”

He almost flung the glass across the room when the warm weight of arms rested against his shoulders, joined by a soft body pressing against his back. Out of pure instinct, his hand went straight to his lightsaber, but he didn’t draw the weapon. It probably wasn’t wise to do that in here.

“Iza,” he breathed, looking extremely startled. “What in the name of the Force…”

Behind him, the brunette snickered and came around to take up post on the stool beside him and the older man found himself trying not to stare. _Oh_. Well, now he knew who the woman in the silver dress was. He should’ve known just by his memory of her in the green dress. Of course, the green dress seemed modest in comparison to what she wore now and he might’ve struggled to keep his eyes at a proper level if she hadn’t reached up and lightly tapped him beneath his bearded chin.

“You’re going to start drooling, Master Jedi.” She gave the ends of his beard a playful tug and reached for the whiskey he didn’t seem to want to touch, looking him in the eye as she sipped it. “See? It’s safe.”

“What are you doing here?” And why hadn’t he been able to sense her presence _at all?_

“Vacation.” She shrugged, setting the glass down in favor of propping her chin in her hand. “You?”

“Where’s Catcher?”

The look that crossed her face seemed to tell him everything he needed to know, but Iza felt inclined to tell him anyway. Turning her gaze away, she sucked lightly at her teeth and let out a hard sigh.

“He left,” slipping her hand back a little, she took a tiny tendril of hair around one of her fingers and started to tug. “It was too much for him, I think. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to stick around either if my wife was the kind of wreck I became when you showed up.”

 _Stars above_. He’d done more damage than he thought. There was a part of him that wanted to ask how bad it was, if she’d gone further into the Darkness and if that was why Catcher had left. But that was none of his business and he knew it. She’d tell him whatever she wanted him to know and let him figure out the rest.

“I’m sorry to hear that,”

“No you’re not,” the smile she gave him was meant to goad him. “But thank you, all the same. You didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Work. I’m here for work.” Again, he was fighting with the urge he had to let his eyes linger in places they shouldn’t and he vaguely wondered why she hadn’t called him out on it again. “It’s unwise for me to drink so much the night before, so I apologize—”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” sitting up on the stool, Iza shook her head at him. “If you want me to go, just tell me and I’ll go.”

“No—” _Force_ , he’d spat that out a little too quick, hadn’t he? “I don’t want you to go.”

Studying him for a moment, Iza relaxed again and moved to finish off the whiskey he wouldn’t touch. Beside her, Obi-Wan felt a bit foolish for having such a knee-jerk reaction to the idea of her leaving so soon, but she’d been eating away at the back of his head for months. He had questions he wanted to ask—some he figured would be best saved for another time—and he just wanted to spend some time in her company. There was something that felt strangely scandalous about that last thought.

“Is there somewhere quieter we can talk?” He asked, finishing the drink in his hand. He suddenly didn’t feel the need to continue sitting here if they didn’t have to.

“My hotel room,” shrugging, Iza began to slide off of the stool, “Or your ship, perhaps?”

“Where would you be more comfortable?” Again, he’d let himself speak too quickly and sounded far more eager than he should.

Her head whipped around to look at him with a curious expression on her face. Slowly, a devious sort of smirk curled the corner of her mouth and she wagged a finger at him, tutting.

“Watch your mouth, Master Jedi.” Letting out an amused snicker, Iza turned to start leading the way out of the club. “A girl might start to think you’ve got ulterior motives.”

 _Stars_. Of course she’d think that. The eagerness in his tone wasn’t giving her any reason to think otherwise. Tossing credits onto the counter to pay for his drinks, Obi-Wan quickly followed behind her, noting the careful way her hips swayed as she walked. He had a slight suspicion that she wasn’t entirely innocent here either. He’d seen the way she carried herself in the past and she’d never put this amount of effort into appearing alluring before. He stayed relatively silent during the walk, eventually coming up alongside her so he wouldn’t be distracted by her body and allowed to be led into a trap. He was still extremely suspicious about this situation; each time he tried to read her, it was like reading a blank datapad. There was just _nothing_ to find. He could feel the Bond if he looked hard enough, but it was fading and there seemed to only be threads of it left. Something had changed, but from which end?

“ _Must_ you always do this?” Iza piped suddenly, giving him a look that suggested that she was quite uncomfortable with all of his _feeling around_. “You should just _ask_ if there’s something you wish to know, Obi-Wan.”

“I…” she had a point. This was a nasty habit of his, wasn’t it? “I apologize.”

The brunette just shook her head and gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes, taking hold of the sleeve of his robe to drag him into a dumpy looking building. Ignoring the looks they got from the man running the front desk, she led him up to the room she’d been given and gestured to the array of chairs once they’d gotten inside.

“Have a seat. Do you want another drink?”

“No, thank you.” Shrugging out of his cloak, Obi-Wan draped it over the back of a plush looking chair and sat down. He tried not to watch as Iza removed her shoes—she _really_ needed to stop leaning over like that—and instead focused on the décor of the room. She’d definitely gotten used to living lavishly, hadn’t she? This place looked like something that Count Dooku might’ve set up in his own home. That thought sent a weird chill down his spine and took a great deal of effort to shake off before he could bring his focus back to her.

Iza had taken up a spot on the chair a few feet away with a glass of wine in one hand and her chin propped in the other as she gazed at him. Neither of them spoke for a while until the brunette shifted to set her glass down and let out a heavy sigh.

“Out with it, Kenobi,” she waved her fingers at him in a come-hither gesture. “What’s on your mind?”

“What happened after we left Alderaan? Master Windu would tell me nothing of his meeting with you.” Bracing himself for possible backlash from mentioning her former Master, Obi-Wan frowned. “And why can’t I read you? You feel _empty_ , Iza.”

“I told you, Catcher left. The visit turned me into something he didn’t like, and he left. That’s what happened.” Her words were sharp, but there was sadness in her eyes that made him feel guilty. “If I feel empty, it’s because _I am_. I have nothing, Obi-Wan.”

“Is that why you’re out here?”

“No…” she shook her head and let out a sigh. “I’ve got a bounty to deal with. That’s why I’m here.”

“I do hope you’re not referring to me.”

Letting out a laugh, Iza bowed her head and bit down on a knuckle when she looked back up at him.

“Obi-Wan, while the price for your head is _tempting_ , I don’t think I have the strength to kill you.” Shifting on her seat, Iza sat up a bit straighter and reached for her wine glass. “Besides, the power I would need to reach for to truly incapacitate you isn’t something I play with anymore. I’m _grey_ , darling. But I do prefer to play in the Light.”

This surprised him and it showed when his brows nearly shot up into his hairline. The expression must’ve been extremely amusing because Iza damn near spit out the wine she’d just sipped, covering her mouth and looking away long enough to swallow it down.

“Don’t look so shocked!” With a wave of her fingers, she sent a decorative pillow flying to playfully hit him upside the head. “I did not let my losses consume my soul. In fact—I took a chip from _your_ datapad recently and began to count losses as learning curves.”

“Learning curves?” Is that what she thought they were? Well, he supposed she was allowed her own interpretation of how he viewed the more painful things he’d experienced in his life. Obi-Wan, however, wouldn’t refer to them as such.

“I won’t let anyone get close to me like that again,” that sad look was back, only it’d spread to the rest of her features. “Catcher was the most important person in my life. If he couldn’t stand to look at me after all of that, then who else out there would?”

 _Damn_. Their divorce must’ve been brutal if she was willing to close herself off like this. It almost seemed like Iza was ready to start taking up the Jedi Code again without actually saying so. Still, there was something to all of this that bothered him.

“The Bond, Iza,” he looked like he was trying to figure out a better way to word his question. “What—”

“You’re a funny man, you know that?” Her smile held no readable emotion that he could see. “I just told you I’m trying to pull away from attachment and you question me about a _Bond_.”

“So you want to pull away from me too? If that’s the case, then why am I here? If you no longer want an attachment to me, perhaps you should have kept your distance in the bar.” No, he didn’t like that answer. It felt like more of an excuse than anything else.

“Perhaps _you_ should’ve kept your eyes to yourself,” tipping her glass in his direction, Iza pursed her lips. “I could feel you staring so hard it was like having fingers running all over my skin.”

“I was trying to figure out if I knew you.” He didn’t mean for it to come out so defensively, but he didn’t enjoy being accused of acting like a pervert. “Pardon me for any discomfort I may have caused.”

“I’m not offended,” _what?_ She wasn’t going to scold him over it? “The dress was made to pull attention and I’m glad to know that it works. Of course,” setting aside the glass again, Iza got up from her seat and eyed him a moment before crossing the space between them and coming to rest on the arm of the chair he was in. “It was not meant to pull _your_ attention, Obi-Wan. But I suppose I can’t complain.”

What was happening? Was this the same woman who’d insisted with every fiber of her being that he’d never stand a chance with her? Maybe this was some sort of coping mechanism on her end; she needed an outlet to make herself forget her ex-husband and Obi-Wan just happened to be a convenient enough resource for that sort of thing. He could reject her and say _no_ to what he was sure she was hinting at. The way she leaned into him and rested her arm on his shoulder definitely suggested she had more in mind than simply _talking_ tonight. Or, he could take advantage of the situation and get it out of his system.

“I thought I disgusted you?” He asked, not liking how rough his voice had become with her closeness. Her little smile made something low in his belly tighten and the feeling only got worse when he felt the delicate scratch of her nails drag through his beard.

“You _do_ ,” she leaned in and gave just the _tiniest_ nip to the edge of his ear. “But so does whiskey. And I believe I finished that whole glass _just for you_.”

_Oh._ That tightness was becoming an ache and he hoped he could maintain some damn composure before he allowed his body to make the decision before his brain could. Turning skeptical blue eyes towards her, he really tried to keep his gaze level with hers. But _damn_ —she just kept inching closer and he had a bad feeling she was about to end up in his lap, where he suspected she knew she’d be able to trap him. She’d barely started to slip her knee across his thigh when he put a hand out to stop her.

“How much _have_ you had to drink tonight, Iza?” _Ever the noble one, wasn’t he?_

“The whiskey and the wine,” she answered, looking a little put out. “My judgement isn’t clouded, but I appreciate the thought.”

Chewing at his tongue, Obi-Wan waged a silent battle with himself over whether or not to let any of this continue. On the one hand, he was absolutely willing to take her to bed. The shameless thoughts and dreams he’d had in the past weren’t _lies_ , after all. On the other, he couldn’t help feeling as though it’d be a mistake to do so. Iza would surely regret the decision in the morning, or he’d feel terrible for taking advantage of her vulnerable state. There was no middle ground here that he could find.

“You were so _greedy_ before,” her teeth had found his neck and surprised him, making him let out a rather undignified sound. “When you kissed me in your hotel room before, you did it out of selfish need. What happened to that, Obi-Wan?”

“Not selfish,” he was having a very hard time keeping his eyes open and an even harder time preventing her from sliding into his lap. “I wanted to help.”

“And did it?”

“What?” Lifting his head, he found she’d managed to ease her way on top of him, sitting back on the tops of his thighs with a faint smile on her lips.

“Did it help?” She was running him in circles and he couldn’t keep up. “Did it keep you from dreaming about me?”

“No,” the confession came out as a soft exhale of breath as he shook his head, “It made it worse.”

“Worse?” Iza tilted her head and gave him a sweet look. “How?”

“Oh no,” laughing quietly in spite of himself, Obi-Wan raised a hand and wagged a finger at her. “I think you’re tormenting me enough as it is, darling.”

“ _Am I?_ ” Leaning flush against his chest, the brunette shifted in his lap and quirked a brow as she grinned wickedly, “ _Oh_ —maybe I am.”

“Iza,” Obi-Wan settled his hands on her hips and lifted her gently to set her back just a bit. “You are playing with fire,”

Giving the tiniest of pouts, Iza propped her chin in the middle of his chest and tried not to snicker when she heard him groan at her. Instead, she let her eyes fall to the robes he wore and began to trace her fingers along the thick material, letting out a heavy sigh.

“I suppose if you’re saying _no_ then I will have to honor your decision. I’m not a **monster** , after all.”

“Who said anything about _no?_ ” Had he just spoken aloud? Were those words his own? _Son of a—_ “Maybe I was waiting for _your_ consent.”

“I believe I’ve given my consent already, darling,” pulling herself up in his lap, Iza batted away his hands to fit herself against him snugly, pausing only to gesture to his belt. “Would you mind removing the lightsaber? It’s quite uncomfortable.”

Giving a dry laugh, the older man brushed her out of the way long enough to unclip the weapon from his belt, dropping it to the floor beside the chair. He settled his hands back on her hips once she’d nestled back into place, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was real. The motive behind her actions almost seemed moot to him the longer he looked up at her and let his fingers dance along the edge of her dress, but he wasn’t going to completely let his guard down. It felt strange to have her in his lap like this after living with nothing but dreams for years, stranger still to have her initiate it after all of the insistence that she held no such attraction to him at all.

“Well?” She looked impatient as she stared down at him like she was waiting for him to do something.

“Well… _what?_ ”

“Where’s the Obi-Wan from back on Alderaan?” Another pout. “The one who couldn’t help but help himself to me?”

“Is that what you want?” He raised an eyebrow at her, trying to hide a grin. It wasn’t often that a playmate wanted something that wasn’t _gentle_. Those few he did choose to bed were not usually interested in anything that didn’t match his outside personality. Then again—they were not privy to the same things Iza was.

“This will only happen once, Obi-Wan,” she warned, leaning in like she might kiss him only to pull away before their lips touched. “You should make it count.”

“I can make it count, don’t you worry about that.” He looked extremely frustrated when she pulled the move again and planted a hand to his chest to keep him from meeting her halfway.

“Can you?” She taunted, “Can you give in to your selfishness the way you do in your dreams, Obi-Wan?”

“ _Darling_ ,” getting to his feet with little effort, Obi-Wan grasped the backs of her thighs to keep her from slipping off of him as he carried her towards the bed. He got about halfway there before leaning in and stealing a rough kiss reminiscent of the one he’d given her months before, breaking away and tossing her carelessly onto the plush surface of the bed.

“I’d be _delighted_ to.”

~*~*~*~

_What had she done?_

Iza lay on the bed beside a snoring Obi-Wan, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Her mind kept going over the events of the last however many hours they’d spent rolling around in the sheets and _boy_ —she didn’t know whether to feel satisfied or ashamed. Maybe a little bit of both, but moreso ashamed than anything. She kept telling herself that it was all part of the plan and that her actions would not be held against her. There had been a long discussion before she’d set out to do this, and they’d come to an understanding that this would be the only way to truly get the job done.

But _stars_ , it made her so sick to think about it.

She would have to report back soon. Obi-Wan would be awake in less than two hours and she couldn’t be here when he did. Rolling out of the bed carefully, Iza gathered up her clothes and slipped them on before quietly taking a cloak from the closet near the door. There would be no good-bye letter, no nothing for him to wake up to. The only message given was to the front desk saying that the man in her room would return her passcard. Nothing more. She’d told him to make it count— _and he had_. She had the bruises and scratches and bite marks to prove it all up and down her skin.

But most importantly, Iza had given him another nudge in the right direction and planted more little seeds of doubt where they were needed. He hadn’t even noticed her reaching along the Bond, picking open locks to doors that were sealed tight from prying eyes. She’d found some pretty damning things in there too, and fresh insecurities to exploit. Her thoughts dwelled on the fact that his comrades no longer trusted him the way they once did and it made her swell with a sense of pride in herself to know she’d made that much of a difference. Maybe this would finally put him over the edge and right where he was wanted.

She kept to herself during her ride on the shuttle, choosing to meditate instead of let herself dwell too long on thoughts of how Obi-Wan might feel when he woke up. Her destination wasn’t terribly far, but she was exhausted by the time she arrived anyway. She hadn’t slept at all—hadn’t been able to bring herself to—and couldn’t wait to report in and just _go home_.

“Tacor,” a low, drawling voice greeted her as she stepped into an intricately decorated building and dropped to a knee. “You’re back so soon,”

“I did as you asked, sir,” she was going to vomit. She was going to vomit all over this nice tile floor and pass out.

“ _Excellent_.”

“Sir,” Iza, wasn’t going to look up even when the chair in front of her swiveled around to face her. “My husband?”

“Yes, of course,” there was a wave of a hand and Catcher lurched into view from her right. “You’re free to leave. But Tacor,”

Iza had gotten up from her spot to throw her arms around the Clone, who looked a little worse for wear but was otherwise alright. Whatever had been done to him was minor, but it angered her to see bruises on him all the same.

“Yes sir?” Turning her eyes towards the man in the chair, she watched as he got to his feet and walked around the large desk, holding tighter to Catcher as he approached.

“Do understand that I am not finished with you,” a slow smile crept across Tyranus’ cracked lips, yellow eyes fixing on her face as he reached to cup her chin. “ _You_ asked for my help and you shall receive it. But this partnership is a two-way street. You will continue to pull Kenobi to the Dark Side until he has fully committed to his fate, and when he has—I shall grant you what you were promised.”

Gritting her teeth against the bile rising in her throat, Iza nodded slowly.

“Yes sir,” Shutting her eyes, she bowed her head as much as she could. “Thank you, sir.”

“Leave. I will let you know when I require your further assistance.”

“As you wish, sir,” pulling Catcher along with her, Iza wasted no time getting them both out of the building, breaking down once they’d gotten far enough away. No amount of reassurance or gentle affections from Catcher would console her as she sobbed into his chest. She hated what she’d done; this deal she’d made with a man everyone believed to be dead was so _wrong_ but he had the power to give her something she _needed_. Even Catcher, who had been extremely upset about it at first, had caved once he’d learned what the man would be able to do for them. Maybe it was Iza’s Dark influence finally getting to him, or maybe he’d just gotten tired of the universe walking all over them—either way, Catcher stood behind his wife’s decision, no matter how screwed up it’d been.

“It’s all right, Little Bit,” he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head. “It won’t be much longer now. He has to crack sometime.”


	8. Love Left Me Hollow

“Little Bit, you’re going to take your skin off,” Catcher’s hands came down over Iza’s to stop her incessant scrubbing, giving a gentle squeeze before he attempted to pry them away from her body.

“I feel _disgusting_ ,” Iza grumbled, leaning back against his chest in defeat. She was so damn worn out from her stupid assignment from Tyranus that she didn’t have the energy to fight back against him. The plan to worm her way into Obi-Wan’s bed had not come from her own head, but that of the Sith Lord. He’d insisted that she was a weak point they could exploit to further crack and eventually shatter the Jedi’s resolve and he’d used Catcher as collateral to make her go through with it. Her husband hadn’t liked the plan any more than she did, but it was better than the alternative. The promises Tyranus had sworn to fulfill for their compliance were within their grasp; they only needed to deliver a fully Fallen Obi-Wan in order to receive them. Iza had been a fool to seek the man out for assistance, she knew that. The entire galaxy believed him to be dead and, in a way, he _was_. _Count Dooku_ was as dead as he could be as far as anyone knew, but Darth Tyranus was _very_ much alive.

“I know, sweetheart,” the Clone was absurdly tender with his touch as he took over washing his wife’s body, doing his best to ignore each bruise and disturbingly perfect set of teethmarks he came across. “I’m sorry,”

“I never want to do something like that again,” shutting her eyes, she dropped her head back against his shoulder before tucking her face into the crook of his neck, “I should have argued harder for a different plan.”

“Iza,” as much as he wanted to make her look at him, Catcher figured it’d be easier to just keep to what he was doing. “He would have tortured you.”

“Like he did to _you?_ ” She huffed loudly against his neck. “Don’t think I didn’t see the marks, Catch.”

“I’m fine,” he’d argue that he’d had worse but wasn’t in the mood for a fight. “We both made it out alive. That’s what matters.”

“This better have worked. I’d rather die than do that again.” Setting her jaw, Iza curled her limbs in towards her chest, disrupting Catcher in the middle of soaping up one of her legs. He sighed behind her and wound his arms around her shoulders, resting his head against hers.

“Don’t say things like that, Little Bit,” he understood the frustration, he really did. They’d tried to prepare themselves for this for over a month now and it hadn’t helped at all. “Not when you know—”

“He did it to break _me_ too, Catcher,” the younger woman buried her face in her hands, cussing into her palms and giving a kick to the side of the tub. “He knows how much I despise that man! He _knows_ I walk the middle-path! Tyranus would prefer if I came over to the Dark Side _fully_ and he’s going to try to make me.”

Catcher didn’t say anything for a long moment as he let the information sink in. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t expected, really. He knew that this _arrangement_ that had been made with the Sith Lord couldn’t be as simple as it sounded. Sure, he _might_ give them the assistance they’d asked for—that _Iza_ had asked for—but there would be an unspoken price aside from her loyalty.

“I won’t do it,” her voice was a low growl, only deepened by the echo made by her palms. “I’ve worked too hard to get here. He won’t take me over too.”

“Then you shouldn’t let him get to your head,” Catcher brought his big hands up and threaded his fingers into Iza’s hair, slowly working the pads against her scalp to try and calm her. “I know how strong you are, Little Bit. You can fight this.”

“Not if he uses you against me like that again,” relaxing into the touch, Iza almost cursed him for pulling that move on her. At the same time, she was grateful to feel her heartrate starting to level out. Shaking her head just enough to object, the brunette looked up at him and reached up to trace her fingertips along the scar beneath his chin. “I would never have gone near Obi-Wan like that if Tyranus hadn’t decided to hold onto you.”

Dropping a kiss to her forehead, Catcher let his lips linger and let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t know what he could say that might calm her any further, so he just didn’t speak at all. After a while, he dropped his hands from her hair and wound his arms around her to pull her in closer, holding her to him almost possessively.

“Do you believe I’ve made a mistake, Catch?” Iza asked after a long while, running her fingers along the light scars that had been left behind on his arms from her fit a few months prior. “Swearing loyalty to this man just for my own selfish needs?”

“ _Our_ selfish needs,” he reminded her, giving her a light squeeze. “You did not go into this alone, Iza.”

“I am the only one of use to him,” she didn’t like saying that out loud, but it was true. Darth Tyranus had made it quite clear that Catcher was expendable and that he wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of him if he became a distraction in Iza’s assignments. He was not to participate in anything, which meant he was not allowed to tag along and potentially keep her from reaching for that side of herself that was too difficult to wrangle in on her own. In turn for him staying behind, Tyranus had _sworn_ that Catcher would remain relatively unharmed as long as she completed her tasks. So far, she’d done pretty damn well for herself. “You’re collateral and I _hate_ it.”

“How do you think I feel knowing that he’s sending you out there to do these things, Iza?” Tilting his head so he could look at her, Catcher frowned hard. “Putting aside the obvious, I don’t enjoy knowing that you could come back missing pieces of yourself that I can’t help you find again. These things take a toll on _me_ too.”

“I’ve noticed,” her voice was soft and sad and she seemed to refuse to want to meet his gaze.

“Little Bit,” brushing damp hair behind her ear, Catcher settled his chin on her shoulder and gave her an affectionate squeeze around the middle. “Sweetheart, please look at me.”

Turning her head just enough, Iza looked at him wearily and accepted the soft kiss that he gave, wishing very much that she didn’t feel like crying as much as she did in that moment.

“He can’t keep you forever,” the Clone whispered, resting his forehead to hers. “I don’t care if we have to play dead for the rest of our lives, that man will _not_ own you forever. Do you hear me?”

“Because I’m yours, right?” The smile on her lips was faint and bittersweet.

“ _Exactly_ ,” stealing another kiss, Catcher seemed to growl when he pulled back and swept his thumb along Iza’s bottom lip. “You’re _mine_. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Little Bit, but I _don’t_ like to share.”

~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan never made it to his meeting. In fact, he didn’t wake up until well into the next afternoon when he began receiving calls on his communicator one right after another and was eventually stirred from his quite pleasant slumber. He wasn’t sure why he felt a pang of disappointment when he rolled over to find Iza’s side of the bed empty; he should’ve known that the brunette was going to slip out before he got up. Still, seeing the space lacking her presence had made him sigh heavily and shake his head before getting out of the bed to answer the comm he’d left in his robes _somewhere_ on the floor nearby.

“Hello?”

“Where the _hell_ are you?” Anakin sounded extremely irritated as his voice crackled through the speaker. “Why did you take so long to pick up?”

“I was asleep.” _Man_ his body hurt. There were scratch marks all down the back of his neck and shoulders and he was pretty sure he’d been bitten a couple of times. Come to think of it, he was pretty sure he’d bitten _her_ quite a lot as well.

“You missed your meeting with the Senator. I had to come and take your place.” _Great_. That meant his apprentice was somewhere in the city. “I’ll ask again, _where the **hell** are you?_”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business, Anakin,” he’d started pulling his clothes back on, acutely aware of the smell of Iza’s light perfume lingering on them. “Where are _you?_ ”

“Inside of your ship.” The younger man sounded as though he might come right through the comm and choke the life out him. “The Council is not pleased, Obi-Wan.”

He was glad for the fact that this was not a holo-conversation because he’d just rolled his eyes hard enough to nearly make them pop out of his skull.

“Anakin, I’m _on_ the Council.”

“That doesn’t excuse you from punishment for failure to do your duties.” _Force_ , since when was Anakin so uptight about everything? “Was she here, Master?”

“Was _who_ here?” He knew who Anakin meant but there was no way he was going to give away his secret.

“ _You know who_.”

“Anakin,” he was becoming incredibly impatient with the younger Jedi and his nosiness. “What in the name of the Force would make you think that Iza would be all the way out here on a mudball like this? Did you ever stop to think that perhaps I may just be a little _tired?_ I did not intend to oversleep.” Clipping his lightsaber to his belt, he found the passcard to the room sitting on a table near the door and glanced around to see whether or not he’d forgotten anything before walking out. “I sincerely apologize if I’ve inconvenienced you in any way.”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. I would issue a formal apology to the Senator instead.”

“Will do,” tossing the passcard onto the counter on his way out of the hotel, he ignored the smirk he got from the guy behind it and stepped out onto the street. It took him a minute to remember which way led to the shipyard he’d left his vehicle and he could still hear Anakin on the other end of the comm, muttering something to him about _what had gotten into him_ and how he couldn’t understand why he would shirk his duties like this. “Anakin, would you please do me a favor and _shut up?_ ”

Wonderful silence followed on the other side for a good few seconds before a soft grunt was heard.

“I suggest reeling that attitude in, Master. I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but I don’t think the rest of the Council is going to appreciate it.” The comm clicked off after that and Obi-Wan was left with nothing but the sounds of the people walking by in the street.

Thank the _stars_. He really hadn’t felt like listening to his apprentice scold him. _Honestly_ , since when did the younger Jedi care so damn much about his business? Normally Anakin knew when to keep his nose out of it aside from some light prodding, but this was ridiculous. Was a man not allowed secrets anymore? Shaking his head, he decided he probably _should_ pay a visit to the Senator to apologize for not making their meeting. He could figure out some sort of excuse on the way there and hope that it stuck.

~*~*~*~

“ _There_ you are,” Anakin sounded like someone’s mother waiting up for them past curfew. “You look like hell,”

“Hello to you too,” agitated as all hell despite having his absence pardoned by the man he’d been meant to meet, Obi-Wan shot an annoyed look at the younger Jedi and brushed past him as he headed up the loading ramp. “I wasn’t aware you were going to sit here waiting all day.”

“I had to make sure you hadn’t been murdered,” eyeing the older man as he passed, Anakin squinted and followed closely, leaning in just enough to take a quick sniff of his Master’s robes. “Why do you smell of Malreaux?”

“Do I?” _Dammit, Iza_. “Must’ve been the hotel.”

“Master,” Anakin wasn’t going to take this excuse and he reached out to grab Obi-Wan by his sleeve, absolutely shocked when the older man shoved him off. For a long minute, the two stared each other down until the younger of the two shook his head and pointed. “There’s something _wrong_ with you. I’ve been sensing it since you came home from Alderaan.”

“Please, _do enlighten me_ , Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s smile was bitter as he folded his arms over his chest and practically scowled at Anakin. He couldn’t explain what it was that was rubbing him the wrong way about the other man this afternoon, but _man_ —he’d really like to deck him in his smug little face. Maybe he’d done a little too much talking with Iza the night before; they’d sipped on some of that wine she’d had in the room, but he couldn’t remember getting drunk. Well, not on _wine_ , anyhow. The girl had been intoxicating enough for him. “Tell me what you think you know.”

Anakin didn’t like this. He’d known Obi-Wan for a very long time and he’d _never_ seen him behave like this. Not even when he was having a particularly bad day. Something wasn’t right with his friend and he honestly didn’t know what to do about it. He could go to the Grand Master and ask for advice, but he felt as though that might backfire. Master Windu might be of some help—but then again, he’d completely turned away from Iza and her _problem_. All he knew was that he had to keep the man away from Ahsoka; whatever was going on, he didn’t want his Padawan becoming a victim of his attitude.

“I’d suggest taking some time to center yourself, Master,” maybe he wasn’t one to talk, given that he sometimes had problems with his attitude. Or maybe he was _exactly_ the person to give Obi-Wan this advice. He knew better than most how difficult it could be to have conflicting feelings waging war inside of oneself. “You’re not behaving like _you_.”

Obi-Wan nearly snapped back at Anakin that perhaps he was only behaving this way was on account of the fact that _someone_ couldn’t stop sticking their nose into his business. But after a moment of thinking it over, it sunk in that _maybe_ that wasn’t the best course of action to take. The younger Jedi was right; he wasn’t behaving like himself. Perhaps he was just tired from the night before? Or maybe being around Iza had done more harm than good. He wasn’t sure. Running his fingers through his hair, he gave a tired shake of his head and turned his eyes to the toes of his boots.

“I’m sorry, Anakin,” he murmured, frowning hard. “Please excuse me.”

Heading further into the ship he could hear the soft clomp of Anakin’s boots follow him up the ramp but didn’t pay any mind to him. Instead, he sat himself down in at the front of the cockpit and rubbed a hand over his face, fiddling with the ends of his mustache as he tried to find some reason for his irritability. His body was _incredibly_ sore, but he’d been through worse on the battlefield. There _was_ the headache throbbing at his temples that he’d woken up with; maybe that was it? Or maybe he was just aggravated by the fact that he’d only gotten this one chance with Iza and there would never be another, according to her. The fact that she hadn’t even left a note or a message with the man at the front desk bothered the hell out of him, actually. His mind played over the events of the night before right down to every gasp and plea from her lips and he couldn’t understand how she’d just _leave_ like that.

“Master?” Anakin’s voice was tentative, like he was unsure whether or not disturbing the older man was a good idea.

“Hn?” Obi-Wan didn’t turn away from where he was blindly staring at the control panel in front of him, still neck deep in his thoughts.

“What happened to your neck?”

 _Stars_.

“It’s nothing,” reaching back to lightly rub his fingers over the marks and readjust the neck of his robes, Obi-Wan stood up and would have gone into the back for the first-aid kit if Anakin hadn’t blocked him. “Do you mind?”

Blue eyes bored into his own, searching silently for some sort of answer to a question that didn’t need to be asked. After a minute or two, Anakin made a disgusted face and backed out of Obi-Wan’s way, shaking his head.

“You neglected your duties to get laid.” _Well_ , he didn’t need to be so blunt about it. “And you went to bed with a _married_ woman while you were at it.”

“Divorced, actually,” hell, if they were going to play this game, then Obi-Wan wasn’t going to pull punches. Going into the kit for the bacta spray, he shook the little bottle around and eyed Anakin for a moment before pulling the neck of his robes to the side and spraying it over the marks. “Not that it’s **any** of your business.”

“You blatantly disregarded what you came here to do, Master Obi-Wan,” Anakin wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or grossed out. Iza was only a few years older than him and Obi-Wan was _at least_ twelve years _her_ senior. There was something about it that just felt wrong to him. “And you’re acting like you don’t care at all.”

“You got the job done, didn’t you?” Shrugging a shoulder, he put the spray back in its place and took a quick sniff of his robes. They did indeed smell heavily of Iza’s perfume; he’d need to change before he got back to the Temple. “I’m not seeing the problem.”

“ _The problem_ is that you’re showing a complete lack of care for your irresponsibility. What is going on with you?” This man wasn’t his Master. Obi-Wan would _never_ behave this way without feeling some sort of shame for it. The only time he’d ever seen him put on an act like this was if they were undercover for an assignment. He didn’t have it in him to be such a bastard. “What did she do to you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Obi-Wan shot a quick smirk in the younger man’s direction and snorted.

“Ugh,” putting his hands up, the look of disgust twisted Anakin’s features again. “That’s just… _ugh_.”

“Anakin, if you’re going to stand there and ask the same three questions over and over, can it wait until we get back to Coruscant?” The older man looked impatient as he headed back to his seat at the cockpit. “I would think that you’d be halfway back right now with as eager as you seem to be to tattle on me.”

“I want to _help_ you!” Why didn’t he see that? If anything, Anakin didn’t want his Master to go back to the Temple and face the Council to be reprimanded. He wanted to do something about this strange change in his demeanor before it got any worse. “Master, there is something inside of you that feels very _off_. Did you and Iza… discuss anything last night?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” it was true; their conversations hadn’t really been anything his young friend needed to know about. “She needed someone to talk to and I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

“You’re _sure_ about that?”

“Anakin,” gritting his teeth, Obi-Wan swiveled in his chair and shot the other man a dark look through the hair in his eyes. It was strange to see him disheveled like that; Obi-Wan typically was _very_ careful about keeping his hair swept back. “You’re getting on my last nerve. Unless you have something _important_ to ask me, I suggest getting back onto your own ship and getting the hell out of mine!”

“If you want me off so bad, you can remove me yourself!”

 _Bad call_.

Getting up from his seat, Obi-Wan wasted no time grabbing the younger Jedi by the front of his robes to drag him towards the loading ramp. For a beat, Anakin tried to immobilize himself using the Force but Obi-Wan’s will was stronger and he soon found himself dumped on his backside on the tarmac. He remained there as the ramp retracted and he covered his head when the ship took off, but he never moved from that spot. Something was _definitely_ wrong with Obi-Wan Kenobi and he had a very bad feeling that it had everything to do with Iza Tacor. Unfortunately, he didn’t know what to do about it that wouldn’t get his Master into a lot of trouble. The last thing he wanted was for him to stand trial and be cast out if he was found to have fallen victim to the Dark Side.

Running frustrated fingers through his hair, the young Jedi slapped a palm down on the tarmac and got to his feet. There _had_ to be something he could do, _had_ to be someone he could talk to about this. He’d nearly reached his ship when he finally thought of at least one, but it was one of the last that he’d _wanted_ to pull into the mess. Leaning against the ship, he hesitated before tapping a button on his comm and waiting for the other end to pick up.

“Hey Snips,” he hoped he didn’t sound as defeated as he felt. “We’ve got a problem,”

~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to Coruscant just yet. He was starting to feel an old familiar itch beginning to build that he was _very_ tempted to scratch, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he _should_. There was a lot of hesitation on his part as he let his ship drift lazily through space and he sat staring at the comm on his wrist before _finally_ tapping a few buttons and waiting. He wasn’t going to be surprised if there wasn’t an answer; the possibility that the receiving end even worked anymore was pretty damn slim. But just when he’d been ready to give up, the line crackled and he smiled faintly at the voice that flowed through the speaker.

“I thought I told you that you got _one_ ride, Kenobi?” Iza didn’t sound unhappy to hear from him, but she seemed a bit distracted. Must’ve been in the middle of hunting that bounty she’d mentioned. “How did you even get this channel?”

“You’re the one using old War tech, darling,” something inside of him purred at the sound of her voice like a giant cat, soothing the agitation Anakin had stirred up with his suspicions. “I knew you still had the bracer.”

She snorted on the other end and sighed.

“Obi-Wan, where are you?”

“Somewhere in between worlds. Where are _you?_ ”

There was a long pause before she answered him and for a moment, he thought he’d lost contact with her.

“Home. I’m home, Obi-Wan.”

“Would it be terribly inconvenient if I came for a visit?” He wondered if she would stick to her _one ride only_ rule or allow him the chance to have her again. With the mood Anakin had put him in, he could use something to blow off a little steam. “I’ll sweeten the deal and bring food.”

“I—yeah. Sure.” There was something in her tone that suggested she wasn’t _entirely_ on board with the idea, but Obi-Wan was a little preoccupied with silently celebrating to really notice. “Just try to let me know before you get here, okay? I’d like to clean up a bit.”

“Of course,” smiling at the communicator, Obi-Wan began setting the coordinates he needed to get to Alderaan. “I’ll see you shortly.”

“Bye.” The comm clicked off before he could say anything, but he was entirely unbothered.

He wouldn’t have to return to the Temple just yet and if anyone asked, he’d say he’d taken a detour to deal with some _unfinished business_. Hell, he was probably facing some serious trouble when he got back there anyway, so why not make it count? Setting the ship to auto pilot once it was going in the right direction, he got up from his chair to head into the back to get cleaned up. If he was going to attempt bedding her again, he wanted to at least look somewhat presentable.

~*~*~*~

“I _can’t_ , Catcher!” Iza was about to have a damn breakdown as she stared up at her husband, looking lost and almost helpless. “I did it once already—I can’t do it again!”

“Little Bit,” the Clone seemed on the verge of vomiting as well as he took hold of her shoulders and tried to get her to listen to him. “You know what the alternative is. Tyranus will kill us _both_ if he isn’t brought over completely. I know this isn’t easy for you, sweetheart. Trust me when I say it isn’t easy on me either. But we chose this. We’re stuck with this.”

“Then _you_ sleep with him!” Pulling out of his grasp, Iza turned to storm off when Catcher threw his arms around her middle and hauled her back against his chest, holding tight even as she twisted and cussed at him. “ **I _WON’T_ DO IT!**”

“Iza,” resting his palms on her belly, he pressed down just enough to catch her attention and buried his face in her neck, his breathing a bit ragged. “Little Bit, think of the goal. Think of what was promised to us. He can _heal you_.”

“I’d rather be _barren_ ,” she didn’t mean it, but Iza was so distraught at the idea of having to go to bed with Obi-Wan again that she would say damn near anything to get out of it. “It isn’t worth it. Catcher, it isn’t worth being unfaithful.”

Behind her, Catcher stayed silent for a while, just breathing into her neck and holding her despite the fact that she kept tugging on him every so often. He knew it was unfair to ask her to do this, and perhaps he’d let the idea of them having a child again go to his head. But this had been _her_ idea in the first place. Ever since they’d learned that their only other options would be surrogate or adoption, she’d been hell-bent on figuring out how to fix the problem that she hadn’t cared _how_. But now that things were going in a direction she didn’t like, Iza seemed to care **a lot**.

“I didn’t mean that,” she said after a while, running her fingers along the backs of his hands. “I’m sorry,”

Nuzzling at the side of her head, Catcher kissed her temple and nodded slowly.

“I know you didn’t, Little Bit,” he understood her frustrations because he shared them. It disgusted him to think that he was going to have to leave the house and allow that man to touch his wife again. Hopefully she’d be able to break him this time and they could send him off to Tyranus and get what they’d been promised. Supposedly, there was nobody else in the galaxy that had Force healing powers like his—and if his living presence was anything to go by, there was truth to those words. He could mend the scar tissue in Iza’s body and they could try properly for another baby and just get on with their kriffing lives in trade for a Fallen Obi-Wan. What he wanted with the man was of no concern to them; Iza was willing to make the trade without any questions asked.

“I love you so much, Catch,” he could hear the tears in her voice and he could only hold her closer, blindly reaching up to try and dry her cheeks only to have her take hold of his hand and press one into his palm, kissing his wrist. “ _I love you_.”

“I love you too, Little Bit,” _Force_ , he suddenly wished he had another solution to this problem. Maybe he should’ve asked Rex for assistance; there had to be a scientist out on Kamino or _something_ who might be able to help. But it was too late. It was much too late for any sort of positive solution. Sighing quietly into her ear, the Clone pressed tons of little kisses to the side of her face and hugged her tight, knowing he wouldn’t have much longer. “Sweetheart,”

“I know,” taking a deep breath, Iza turned around to look at him, bringing her hands up to cup his face and pull him in for a soft, sweet kiss. Trying her hardest not to cry when she had to break away from him, she shut her eyes when Catcher kissed her forehead and refused to open them until she heard the door open and shut.

What a situation she’d gotten herself into. What a _mess_ she’d made of their lives. Her selfish desire to have a baby without the aid of another person had led her to a decision that was coming back to destroy her, and Iza wasn’t sure how much more she could take. She had no problem playing on Obi-Wan’s insecurities or forcing him to face his deeply hidden fears, but giving herself to him as bait in order to weaken his defenses was despicable. That grey area she so proudly lived in was becoming shadowier by the day and she was terrified she would wake up blind in darkness without ever having realized it sneaking up on her. And poor Catcher, she’d dragged him into this without so much as a choice in the matter. He was so good to her that he just went along with it, fueled by the same desire she had to have a little one of their own again.

Running her hands over her damp face, Iza figured it might be a good idea to wash the tears off. If she was going to play the part of a seductive little harpy, she needed to make herself look a bit more presentable than this. Stars help her, she hoped she’d be able to get through this evening with at least _some_ of her sanity still intact. Tyranus needed this job done and she wanted out of this contract as soon as possible. She needed to put everything she had behind this encounter, even if it meant plucking at things in Obi-Wan’s head and heart that she knew damn well she shouldn’t touch.

She _would_ break this man even if she had to break a little piece of herself to do it.


	9. A Hurt, Lost and Blinded Fool

Iza was going to burn the bed after this.

She tried not to flinch when she felt the brush of Obi-Wan’s beard against her bare back and the warm press of lips that followed, playing it off like he’d startled her when she heard him snickering behind her.

“It’s going to be damn hard to leave,” he murmured, trailing kisses up to the back of her neck. “Are you _sure_ we can’t come to some sort of agreement?”

 _Ugh_.

Biting down on her bottom lip to keep from snapping at him about how he was damn lucky to have gotten what he’d gotten out of her, Iza forced a smile onto her face and turned over to cup his jaw in her hands.

“ _Greedy_ , aren’t we?” Leaning up, she lightly nuzzled the tip of her nose across his and shot him a look.

“And here I thought you enjoyed that,” skimming a hand along her side, the Jedi took hold of the swell of her hip and squeezed lightly. “You must forgive me for not wanting to give this up so easily.”

The sharp inhale of breath that’d followed had been more of a reaction to his nails pressing into her skin than one of pleasure, but she wasn’t sure he could tell the difference. Especially not when she saw how his eyes lit up at the sound and he surged forward to crush his lips to hers in a kiss she didn’t want to admit set her head spinning. One of the hands on his face slid deep into his russet colored hair and _pulled_ , making him growl deep in his chest and press himself flush against her, pinning her further into the mattress until Iza thought she might melt into it.

“ _Vicious_ little girl,” Biting a line down from her chin to her neck, he was completely oblivious to the way she was struggling to keep her damn composure. Had he known, he likely would’ve stopped and at least assessed the situation to make sure she was still on board with everything. “The Dark Side has done _wonders_ for you,”

She wanted to scream. The temptation to shove this man off of her with every ounce of her Force power was growing by the second, but all she could do was fake a giggle and keep dragging her fingers through his hair.

“I suppose it has,” she’d been trying to pick apart more of the weaker threads in his brain but she kept getting distracted. He’d say something or do something that would throw her off and make it hard to concentrate on what she needed to do and twice she worried she’d almost been caught. Now was one of those times.

“Are you all right?” Propping himself up on an arm, the older man stared down at her as he panted lightly through parted lips, brushing the hair out of his face. “You keep making this face,”

“What face?” Time to pull out that sweet, innocent expression of hers and bat her eyes. “I’m all right.”

“You sure?” Trailing a fingertip along her bottom lip, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and offered a soft smile.

 _Oh, stars_. He was actually concerned. This wouldn’t do.

“Yeah,” turning her head just enough, Iza caught his fingertip between her lips and sucked gently, earning herself another low growl and a heavy rush of breath in return. “ _Promise,_ ”

He looked about ready to try for round _whatever number it was_ when the beeping of a communicator sounded from the other room. Both of them looked out towards the hallway and Iza realized with a cold shock that it was _her_ communicator.

“I should get that,” there was only one person who would call that particular line and if she didn’t answer, she’d be in a _lot_ of trouble. “Excuse me,”

Crawling out from underneath him, Iza snatched up Obi-Wan’s outer robe from the floor and wrapped it around herself before grabbing the comm from its charging base, heading outside to answer.

“My Lord,” she tried to be as quiet as possible.

“Tacor,” Tyranus’ voice poured out of the speaker and chilled her to the bone. “Status update,”

“ _Sir,_ I can’t talk. I’m… _he’s here_ ,” keeping an eye on the door to make sure Obi-Wan didn’t try to come outside, Iza moved further away and cleared her throat. “I’m working on it.”

“ _Good_. I expect _results_ , Tacor.”

“Yes sir,” she waited for another answer and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the line simply clicked and went dead. _Stars above_ , that had been a little too close for her liking. Tempted as she was to shut the communicator off completely, she knew better. If she wasn’t available to answer whenever Tyranus _wanted_ her to answer, then she’d be punished severely. Heading back into the house, she found Obi-Wan still in the bed waiting, a curious look on his face.

“What was so important that you had to rush out like that?” Blue eyes looked her over accusingly and Iza wasn’t sure she liked it. Had it been Catcher, she would’ve considered it a playful move, but it somehow seemed too possessive for a man who _wasn’t_ her husband.

Setting the communicator back on its base, she shrugged out of his robe and crawled back onto the bed, pouting lightly.

“Money,” leaning in, she gave his bottom lip a tug with her teeth and grinned, “Lots of money.”

“Hmm, you and your new job,” tutting at her as he shook his head, the older man reached to pull her over him, letting his fingers play over every little bit of bare skin he desired to touch. “For one who wasn’t fond of the battlefield, you sure don’t seem bothered collecting heads for cash.”

“It’s a little different,” she wished he wouldn’t do that, and she hated that her body was actually responding positively to the touch. “I can fight any way I want when I collect a bounty. I can use the abilities you said I wasn’t allowed to.”

“You use your Dark Side powers when you hunt bounties?” Shifting beneath her, he reached to find and tuck a pillow beneath his head. “What about a lightsaber?”

“Obi-Wan,” trying not to look impatient, she pursed her lips. “Weapons are not allowed on Alderaan. You know this because you have to surrender yours every time you come here. And besides, last I checked— _you_ still had mine.”

He smiled, looking sheepishly guilty.

“I do,”

“The lightsaber is the weapon of a Jedi anyway,” shrugging, Iza found herself trailing her fingers through the light smattering of curls on his chest. “I haven’t been a Jedi in a very long time. And Jedi don’t _kill_.”

“So, how do you…?”

“Kill?”

“Yeah,” goodness, he was genuinely curious wasn’t he?

Looking a little hesitant, the brunette held up a hand and simply closed her fist as tight as she could, looking him dead in the eye. Nothing came of the move, but he understood well enough. She used her bare hands—well, she used her bare hands _and the Force_. It was kind of a dark thing to think of with her sitting naked on top of him the way that she was but hey— _he’d asked_.

“Don’t look so spooked,” it actually amused her to see him appear mildly concerned for that split second. “It takes a lot out of me to do it, so you’re not in danger.”

“That’s not an easy thing to do, no,” he’d had that particular trick used on him before, so he was grateful to hear she had no intention of giving him a demonstration. “I’m not sure whether to be impressed or uneasy to know that you’ve learned how to do that.”

“Master Windu taught me how,” again, she shrugged as if they were discussing how she’d been taught to drive a speeder. “I was only ever supposed to use it in special circumstances—or on droids.”

“Hn,” tracing long fingers over the tops of her thighs, Obi-Wan seemed to mull over whether or not he wanted to comment further. He _didn’t_. He quickly became distracted with seeing which little bits of soft skin would elicit quiet gasps of surprise out of her when he touched them and which would make her squirm.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” she _hated_ the need in her tone. Iza was so damn disgusted with herself over the fact that her body reacted to his touch at all. She wanted to punch him right in that stupid lazy smile of his and break those pretty teeth; maybe that’d pull the bastard into the Dark Side like Darth Tyranus wanted.

“You’re _warm,_ ” he sounded surprised as he swept the pads of his thumbs over the creases where her thighs met her hips. That kriffing smile of his only seemed to grow more devious as he sank his fingertips into her hips and pulled her tight against his pelvis. “Ready to go again so soon?”

“Maybe,” _I’m going to **kill** you._ “Maybe not,”

“Oh,” sitting up, his skimmed his palms up her back and into her hair, grasping handfuls of the strands to pull enough to make her tilt her head back. Keeping eye contact as well as he could, Obi-Wan started up with those wretched biting kisses to her neck again and lifted his hips up from the bed with a quiet snicker. “Are we playing _that_ game again, darling?”

Iza could feel her mind wanting to slip into a side of herself that she typically ran away from. All of the hate and disgust was piling up and stacking itself alongside the feelings of self-loathing she’d been trying to push back. And then there was the fear; they hadn’t used any sort of protection _once_ , and regardless of her situation Iza was absolutely terrified that this would be the _one time_ she managed to get pregnant. It all gathered together in a hot pool in her belly and bubbled up higher, threatening to explode at any given minute.

“Iza?” his concerned tone snapped her out of the haze and she jerked back when his face came into focus a little too close for comfort. “Are you _sure_ you’re all right?”

“I need a drink,” she didn’t even give him time to take his hands out of her hair before she was crawling off of the bed, standing on shaky legs that nearly gave out on her way to the kitchen. She wanted Catcher. She could feel herself slipping _hard_ and she didn’t know what to do. Grabbing a bottle of his ale from the fridge, she nearly broke the neck when she popped the cap with her bare fingers and cut them open in the process. Chugging it down like she hadn’t had a sip in years, she started to prop herself against the counter to try and gather her thoughts when a hand closed around hers and she came very close to smashing the bottle over Obi-Wan’s head.

“ _Whoa_ , take it easy!” both of his hands went up in defense and he took a few steps back to give her space. Clearly, she needed it. “Iza, what the hell?”

“I’m sorry,” setting the bottle down, she shook her head. “I’m sorry,”

“I didn’t mean to startle you. You’re bleeding.”

“I don’t care,” the wounds were superficial; if she focused hard enough, she could close them and they’d mend in no time.

“What’s going on?” He was doing that thing now—making that face he always made whenever he was deeply concerned about something. She hated that stupid face; it never felt genuine enough to her. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Iza?”

“I don’t want you pulling my _kriffing_ hair,” _okay_ , this could work. It was a ridiculous excuse, but it might work. “Don’t touch my damn head, Obi-Wan.”

He blinked at her as he tried to let that sink in. At first, he was _very_ confused. She hadn’t made much of a fuss before, but perhaps there was a difference to her between deliberate tugging and something done in the heat of the moment? He didn’t know. It hit him that it must’ve triggered something in her to remind her of Catcher, having his hands in her hair like that. The last thing he’d wanted was to remind her of her ex-husband while they rolled around together in her bed. If anything, he wanted to help her forget him. Cautiously coming up next to her, he leaned over and lightly brushed his lips against her shoulder, careful to keep an eye on her face. He didn’t want to be blindsided by a blow he couldn’t see coming.

Iza did her best not to flinch at the touch or look at him like she’d love nothing more than to send him flying out of the front window. Instead, she had to try and keep her breathing as steady as possible and allow him to pull her back into his arms. It wasn’t very difficult to take comfort in the embrace, surprisingly. She was so worn out from fighting back against her emotions that she likely would’ve given in to whatever he wanted in that moment.

Thank the _stars_ for the doorbell.

“Who in the galaxy could that be?” Obi-Wan seemed offended that someone dared to interrupt their fun.

Breaking away from him to grab the robe once more, Iza turned a hand up and waved him towards the bedroom.

“I don’t know, but I’d go put something on if I were you.” Waiting until he’d gone, she went to answer the door and almost collapsed in a heap when she found Ahsoka standing on the other side. _Oh no_. “Ahsoka…”

The Togruta eyed her up and down a few times, blue eyes scrutinizing every last detail before she set her jaw and gave a look of severe disappointment. Before she could say anything, Iza stepped outside and ushered her away from the house, feeling like she was going to pass out.

“What are you doing here?” the damn robe wouldn’t stay closed and she had to wrap it around her several times before anchoring it down by folding her arms over her chest. “Ahsoka, you promised you’d at least call first.”

“Is Master Obi-Wan in there?” she didn’t like the look in her friend’s eye.

“It’s not what you think,”

“Then why are you naked?” gesturing, Ahsoka frowned harder. “Iza, where’s Catcher?”

Iza was quickly losing grip on her composure the longer she stood in front of the other woman. Leave it to Ahsoka to pull the guilt out of her like that. Shaking her head vigorously, she turned away and buried her face in her hands before sitting down hard in the grass.

“You don’t _understand!_ No one understands how lonely it is!”

“Iza,” Ahsoka’s hand was gentle when it rested on her shoulder. “Loneliness isn’t an excuse to—”

“I just want to be a _mother_ again!” the words were out before she could stop them and it seemed like they were just going to keep coming. “He _promised_ he could do that for me. He _promised_ he could fix me! All I had to do was this _one little thing_ , but I _can’t_. I can’t do it, Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka didn’t know what to do. Nothing Iza was saying made any sense. Well—some of it did. But she had no idea _who_ Iza meant. Had Obi-Wan promised to get her pregnant because Catcher couldn’t? Or maybe there was some sort of trade-off in exchange for sex? Obi-Wan was a pretty decent healer, after all. He’d brought her back from the brink of death; surely he could fix whatever problem Iza seemed to have that was keeping her from having another child. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be doing the older woman any good.

“I’m supposed to break _him_ ,” Iza gestured towards the house and let out a short laugh before dragging her fingers through her hair. “But I’m the one suffering the most.”

“What are you talking about?”

Licking her lips, Iza realized she had a very big decision to make here. If she told Ahsoka about Darth Tyranus, all of her plans would be ruined. She and Catcher would be in _danger_ from that moment on and they’d never have a chance to start a family ever again. But if she continued down this path, there wouldn’t be much of her for her husband to come back to. She was beginning to crack and crumble in the worst way and it wouldn’t be long before she couldn’t hold on to that sense of balance she’d worked so hard to attain.

“I’ve done something terrible, Ahsoka,” she said finally, looking up at her friend with weary eyes. “I’m not sure I can go back from this.”

“Iza,” crouching in front of her, Ahsoka tilted her head and knit her brows together. “If you tell me what it is, I can help you. Anakin and I can help you.”

“I’m not so sure anyone can,” she could think of _one_ person, but there was no way in hell he’d reach out to her now.

“ _Iza_ ,” Ahsoka had seen a lot of things over the last few years, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen someone give up so easily like that. It stirred a frustration inside of her that made her want to keep insisting that Iza let her help, but she wasn’t sure if she should. “Can we at least try?”

“I want my Master,” the words were so soft and puny they may as well have been spoken by a child. “I need Master Windu.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” nodding, Ahsoka was reluctant to move away from the brunette long enough to call Anakin on the comm. Keeping an eye on her, she got a terrible feeling in her stomach at the way she slumped over and buried her head in her knees. “Hey, Skyguy,”

“What’s up, Snips?” Anakin sounded more than a little concerned by the tone of Ahsoka’s voice.

“I need you to call Master Windu and tell him he needs to get here right away.”

“Is it that bad?”

“I think this might be worse than we thought, Master,” shifting her gaze to the house, Ahsoka stiffened when she caught Obi-Wan staring at her from the window. He looked almost unrecognizable with the expression he wore. She’d never seen his blue eyes so _cold_ before. “Please hurry,”

“What’s going on, Snips? Do you need me to come down there?”

“ _After_ you make sure Master Windu is coming. It’s important that he doesn’t say no.” Where did Obi-Wan go? She’d only looked away for a second. “Tell him Iza’s gotten worse. She needs his help. I don’t know where Catcher is and—”

“You’ve always been quite the meddler, haven’t you?” Obi-Wan’s harsh tone startled Ahsoka enough to make her instinctively reach for the lightsabers that weren’t clipped to her belt. _Dammit_. She’d forgotten about having had to surrender them.

“Master Obi-Wan,” something definitely wasn’t right about him. Anakin had been right to be suspicious. “Iza needs help,”

“Does she?” He turned his head briefly to assess the woman who’d laid herself down in the grass. “She seems all right to me.”

Pressing her lips together in a thin line, Ahsoka slowly started to side step towards Iza to put herself between the woman and Obi-Wan. Her eyes never left the Jedi in front of her and she kept herself braced for any kind of attack he might throw at her, not entirely sure he wouldn’t lash out if he thought she was threatening to take Iza away.

“She’s not well, Master,” she didn’t dare move from this spot now. She’d use every last ounce of her Force energy to keep him away if she had to. Obi-Wan was strong, but Ahsoka’s will was stronger.

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything. He simply stared her down with that strange look and began to move forward as though he hadn’t even heard her. A gasp sounded from behind Ahsoka at the same time the older man raised his hand and the Padawan grunted as she was knocked out of the way by Iza’s floating form.

“ _Hey!_ ” both hands went out to try and take control to pull Iza back towards her, but she was knocked back by a wave of hot pressure that sent her tumbling a few feet into the grass where she lay unmoving.

“Obi-Wan, _please_ ,” Iza braced her hands against the older man’s chest, standing on her toes to make sure he hadn’t hurt Ahsoka. “Leave her alone!”

Turning that hard look towards her, the older man studied her face for a long time before smirking faintly and lightly thumbing her chin. The move nearly made her vomit; that was something only Catcher did.

“She’ll be all right,” leaning in like he was going to steal a kiss, he let out a heavy grunt when something solid struck him upside the back of the head. A rock. Reaching to touch where it’d landed, he checked to make sure he wasn’t bleeding and twisted to find Ahsoka standing at the ready with another one clenched in her fingers. “ _You little—_ ”

“Obi-Wan, _don’t!_ ” Throwing her arms around him, Iza did her best to hold onto him despite their size difference. “ _Please don’t hurt her!_ ”

“I’m sick… _and tired_ …” tugging against her hold, the older man grit his teeth and managed to get a hand free, holding it out in front of him like he was grasping an invisible neck. “ _Of the **kriffing MEDDLING**!_”

The choking sounds that left Ahsoka as she was lifted off of her feet made Iza’s soul shatter. No amount of yelling or clawing at Obi-Wan’s bare skin was going to stop him and she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just stand there and watch him strangle the life out of the girl; she had to do _something._ The sound of glass breaking behind her seemed loud in her ears and before she realized what was going on, she felt the cool metal shaft of the lightsaber she’d stashed away slip into her outstretched hand. Switching it on, she hovered the blazing purple beam of plasma just under Obi-Wan’s chin and growled into his ear.

“ _Let her go, **NOW**!_”

Ashoka was dropped unceremoniously in a heap almost immediately and Iza moved the blade away, not switching it off as she let go of Obi-Wan and watched him turn to face her.

“I thought that was a _Jedi_ weapon?” he taunted, eyeballing the saber humming steadily in her hand. “When did you build a new one?”

“Ahsoka,” Iza’s voice trembled hard as she tried to look beyond the bright light of the blade and check on the girl. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” sitting up, Ahsoka rubbed at her throat, wheezing lightly, “I’m okay.”

“Get out of here. Go.”

“What? But what about—”

“ _Ahsoka, I said **GO**!_”

Iza could feel the hesitation in the younger woman as she picked herself up from the grass, but a sense of relief washed over her as she turned and ran off towards the main area of the city. Curling the fingers of her second hand around the base of the saber, Iza prepared herself to have to fend Obi-Wan off on the off-chance he decided he wanted to pursue Ahsoka, but he seemed more interested in studying her new weapon.

“ _Purple?_ ” That tone of his was not pleasant in the slightest. “I would’ve thought it’d be red, all things considered.”

“Get in the house,” jabbing the end of the lightsaber at him, Iza tried to pull herself to her full height.

“ _Ooooh_ ,” he looked her over and began to walk in a circle around the younger woman, amused when she followed his every step. “Someone’s feeling better, isn’t she?”

“We have somewhere to go, Kenobi. _Get inside_.”

“All right darling, all right,” chuckling, he put his hands up in surrender and turned to head into the house, occasionally looking over his shoulder to see whether or not she was still threatening him with the lightsaber. “This is a crime you’re committing, you know. Threatening a Jedi.”

“Shut up and get dressed,” powering down the lightsaber, Iza shot him a dirty look and shrugged out of his robe to find her own clothes to wear. Keeping an eye on him the entire time she got dressed, the brunette had to fight off the same weariness from before. She was _not_ okay in the slightest, but seeing him attack Ahsoka like that had brought something out of her that had given her just enough drive to keep moving. If she could deliver him to Darth Tyranus before her mind completely clouded over, then they could be done with this whole thing and she and Catcher would be free. Part of her wanted to know what it was that had finally tipped him; he’d been relatively fine when she’d left him alone in the house to answer the door. But that look in his eye when he’d seen Ahsoka… that hadn’t been there before.

“So,” his voice startled her enough to make her jump. _Stars_ , she needed to do something about these nerves. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” pointing the hilt of the lightsaber towards the door, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Move it. Don’t make me make you.”

“I almost want to see you try,” casting a faint smirk in her direction, Obi-Wan put up no fight as he headed for the door with her close behind him. “You might want to put that away so you’re not arrested at the platform.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Grabbing her communicator off of its charging base, Iza slipped it on and marched him out. The walk to the main area of the city was much shorter than it should’ve been, but at least he seemed to go without fuss. As she’d feared, both Ahsoka and Anakin were waiting up on the platform where she’d left her ship and she tried to pretend not to see either of them as she escorted the older man across the tarmac.

“ _Iza!_ ” Anakin’s voice seemed to make Obi-Wan tense up horribly and she hoped he wouldn’t try and attack him.

“Stay back!” Putting a hand up, she looked to Ahsoka and then back to Anakin. “Please, it’s for your own safety. Just _stay back!_ ”

“My own…? Iza—”

“I would listen to her, Anakin,” Obi-Wan smiled a little too pleasantly at his apprentice, giving a nod in the younger woman’s direction. “She’s quite forceful in her condition.”

“Master?” The other Jedi looked as though he didn’t quite recognize the man standing mere meters from him.

“You’d do well to warn the Temple, Anakin,” grunting at the elbow that Iza jabbed into his back, Obi-Wan stayed rooted to his spot. “She’s absolutely lost it.”

Something in Anakin’s expression suggested that he didn’t _quite_ believe the words coming out of the man’s mouth, but that he was also extremely suspicious of Iza’s behavior as well. Looking between the two, he found that Iza was unable to meet his gaze while Obi-Wan stared right through him. No—what Ahsoka had told him was right. Something was _wrong_ with his Master.

“Don’t try to follow us,” Iza pushed Obi-Wan up the loading ramp and cast a sorry look in the pair’s direction. “You’ll only get hurt.”

“Iza—”

“Ahsoka, stop!” Anakin clamped a hand down on Ahsoka’s shoulder before she could try to go after the two, pulling her back to his side and shaking his head.

“But _Master!_ ”

“I know,” breathing hard through his nose, Anakin glared as he watched the two disappear into the ship. “I know, Snips.”

“We can’t just let them go!”

“We’re not,” watching as the ship began to slowly rise into the air, the older man followed it with his eyes until it zipped out of sight. “But we can’t give chase just yet.”

“How will we know where to go?”

Anakin couldn’t help smiling at her. After all of their time together, she still had her moments where she reminded him of that naïve little fourteen-year-old he’d been handed to train as his apprentice. Propping his hands on his hips, he shot her a look.

“It’s an old Republic bird, Snips. The trackers don’t die in those things.”

Ahsoka would’ve felt foolish had she not been so worried for her friend. Anakin hadn’t seen the things she’d seen or felt what she’d felt radiating off of both Iza and Obi-Wan. Her inability to remember something as simple as location trackers in an old ship was literally the _last_ thing she cared about.

“How long do we have to wait?” She shouldn’t be so impatient, but Iza’s words were haunting her. There’d been so many questions left unanswered and without the other woman, they were likely to remain that way.

“Master Windu should be arriving soon. I told him to hurry just like you insisted.” He was glad for the fact that the man had agreed, too. After the last trip, Master Windu seemed immune to anything that had to do with Iza. But when Anakin had relayed Ahsoka’s troubling message, the man sounded more concerned than he’d ever heard him.

“ _HEY!_ ”

Both Ahsoka and Anakin turned at the sound of a hurried voice, surprised to see Catcher running across the platform with a worried look on his face. His dark eyes glanced to where the ship had been just moments prior, then to the pair and he waved a hand at the empty space.

“Where did she go?!” Man, he looked like he was going to be sick. “Did she leave here with him?”

“You… knew?” Ahsoka felt like someone had slapped her and set her head spinning on her shoulders. “You knew she was sleeping with him? Catcher— _what is going on?_ ”

“I can’t believe this,” dragging a hand down his face, Catcher swore under his breath and laced his fingers behind his head. “She wasn’t supposed to kriffing leave without me!”

“Catcher!” Anakin grabbed the other man’s shoulders and gave him a hard shake. “You’re not making any sense!”

“She’s going to face Darth Tyranus _on her own_ ,” shoving Anakin off of him, Catcher turned to start pacing, still cussing and pulling at his hair. “ _Dammit_ , I knew she would do this. I knew she’d leave me out of it. She’s so _kriffing_ stubborn!”

“Darth…” Ahsoka looked over at Anakin, who looked as though he might punch a hole in the tarmac.

Reaching out, he grabbed Catcher’s shoulder again to still him, looking him dead in the eye with a kind of fierceness that had the Clone ceasing his mindless babbling.

“Start talking,” Anakin’s voice was smooth and full of warning, “If you want to see Iza make it out of there _alive_ , you’ll tell me everything _now_.”


	10. The Distance In Your Eyes

Catcher looked like a nervous wreck as he sat at the back of the ship, his head in his hands. He’d given Anakin every bit of information he could, including the coordinates for the planet that Darth Tyranus currently resided. In his heart, he knew it was the right thing to do, even if his gut was screaming at him for betraying his wife’s trust. Part of him felt betrayed, too. Iza was not supposed to take Obi-Wan _alone_. The man was too strong and too damn dangerous to be transported by one person; his charisma alone was enough of a weapon for him to slip through her grasp whether she wanted to admit it or not. He was so worried for her and what might become of the rest of her Light in the presence of that man. From what Ahsoka had said, he’d gone over quite quickly and he wasn’t afraid to get violent. If the slight rasp still evident in the young Jedi’s voice was anything to go by, he had no shame reaching for powers he once shunned. Iza wouldn’t stand a chance.

Anakin had really torn into him, too. The kid was good at making people feel about an inch tall when he wanted to, that was for sure. And he’d definitely done a good job at making Catcher feel stupid about the selfish choices he and his wife had made to bring them to this point. Offering a Fallen Obi-Wan to a damn _Sith Lord_ in exchange for Iza’s body to be repaired? Yeah—it sounded pretty damn pathetic to him too now that he was stuck sitting here thinking about it over and over. But maybe, worst of all, had been the _look_ he’d gotten from Master Windu when he’d boarded their ship. The man hadn’t said anything to him, just fixed him with this stare that made what was left of Catcher’s fighting spirit leave his body. He felt like an empty shell of a man, weak and unable to do anything to help anyone. What had he done? What had he allowed his wife to do? Why had he let his own greediness cloud his judgement?

“Here,” Ahsoka’s voice was gentle when it startled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see her holding a bottle of water out to him. “It’s not cold, but you look like you could use it.”

Everyone seemed angry with him except Ahsoka. There was a sense of disappointment in her eyes, but she appeared to be more understanding than the other two Jedi aboard the ship.

“Thank you,” his throat was dry as hell and he took the bottle with a nod, cracking it open and taking a long drink. Heaving a sigh, he stared at the wall in front of him and let his shoulders sag. “I should have said something sooner. I never should have let it go this far.”

“Why _did_ you?” Anakin snapped from up front, not turning around. “Why would you willingly go along with something like this?”

“I wasn’t given much choice, I told you,” it felt useless to argue with Anakin, but what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t sit there and _not_ defend himself. “She’d made the deal without asking me. I didn’t even know she _knew_ where to find this guy.”

“I’m curious to know how she found him, myself,” Windu piped from the co-pilot’s chair, sounding as though he were deep in thought. “Dooku _died_. _How_ he managed to live through what Anakin did to him…” frowning hard, the older man rubbed at his chin and shot a sidelong glance at the man beside him. “You’re _sure_ you took his head off?”

“I’ve told you five times now,” Anakin was going to start punching people if he was questioned one more time. “Before we killed the Chancellor, _I cut his kriffing head off_.”

“General Grievous was just body parts and droid bits, wasn’t he?” Ahsoka chimed in, shrugging. “If someone got to the corpse quickly enough—”

“He was _dead_ , Snips!” Turning just enough to shoot a dark look over his shoulder, Anakin held her gaze for a moment or two before facing forward again. “You don’t come back from what I did to him.”

Silence filled the ship for a while until Windu sighed heavily beside Anakin.

“You should have brought her to me, Catcher,” pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a headache, the older Jedi shook his head. “She knows that I could do the same thing for her without asking for anything in return.”

“With all due respect sir,” Catcher hesitated, “Iza was _quite_ upset with you after your visit. I’m afraid she saw this as the only option she had. I don’t want to offend, but I can’t say I blame her after the way you departed.”

“I was foolish to test her, I’ll admit,” Windu gave a slow nod, staring straight ahead out of the cockpit window. “But she knows that she can come to me for anything, which is likely why she asked Ahsoka to call for me.”

“She didn’t look good, Master Windu,” Ahsoka was hesitant to say this while sitting beside Catcher, but she felt like it was something important that the other Jedi needed to know. “She broke down when I confronted her about Master Obi-Wan and then… it was like she snapped, but in the _other_ direction?”

“What do you mean, Snips?”

“She had a lightsaber,” twisting her face in thought as she idly rubbed her throat, Ahsoka shook her head. “I don’t remember a lot because she made me leave—but it was _purple_ , like yours, Master Windu. Wouldn’t it be red if she was—”

“I keep telling all of you that Iza has not completely gone over but _none_ of you want to listen!” Tossing the half-empty bottle of water to the other side of the ship, Catcher growled under his breath and shook his head. “Iza never completely abandoned the Light. She turned away from the Code because of the restrictions it put on the life she wanted to lead—but she _fought_ to keep herself in the middle. Master Windu knows. That’s why he tested her the way that he did.” Shutting his eyes, the Clone pressed his lips together tightly and fell silent for a long moment before he continued, “She is _slipping_ , but she hasn’t given up yet. She was just as shocked as you when that blade lit up purple instead of red.”

“When did she make the trip to get a new kyber?” Windu asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” shaking his head, Catcher waved a dismissive hand. “She’s been taking bounty hunting jobs in between her _assignments_ for Tyranus, but she wanted me with her when she turned it on for the first time.”

“She couldn’t have been able to choose her own crystal if she was too close to the Dark Side,” humming quietly, Windu turned to look out the window again. “It’s tricky how the process works, but…”

“I don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to hold out without me there,” Catcher looked utterly defeated as he tucked himself into a corner, dragging his hand down his face. “We were supposed to do this _together_. I have no way of knowing that she’ll be all right now.”

“Why Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked, swiveling in his chair to look back at the Clone. “Out of everyone in the galaxy, _why him?_ ”

“She said Tyranus had some sort of connection to him. There was a _lot_ she didn’t tell me, okay? I just knew what the end-goal was and after everything he did… I felt like it was justified.”

“You think it’s _justified_ to turn someone over to a Sith Lord?” Anakin would’ve stood up if not for the way Ahsoka had purposely placed herself between him and Catcher. It was almost like she’d known he would get angry about _something_ during the trip and wanted to prevent any physical fighting from happening. Good ol’ Snips. “What exactly did Obi-Wan do other than care for her?”

“Skywalker,” Windu had a feeling he needed to cut this conversation _now_. “Now is not the time for this.”

“He was always on the edge, Anakin,” Catcher’s voice was casual as hell and it irked Anakin something fierce. “You can’t tell me you spent all that time with him and never felt it. According to Iza, the man was a ticking bomb. Same as she was. That Bond of theirs broke them both. She likes to point the finger at him and sometimes I can’t blame her, but she opened his floodgates too.”

“I think that’s enough,” getting to his feet, Master Windu gave Catcher a look of warning before shifting his gaze to Ahsoka. “Can you tell me anything else, Padawan Tano?”

“About Iza?” Blinking, the younger girl tried to think before she lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “She didn’t use violence against him until she had to. I mean—until he was…” gesturing to her throat, she gave a dry laugh and a cautious look in Anakin’s direction. “She pleaded with him first. Obi-Wan was the one whose anger got the better of him.”

“I see,” appearing to take the information and store it somewhere in his head, Master Windu paced the length of the ship slowly. “What was it that you confronted her about when you arrived?”

“Sir,” Ahsoka didn’t want to talk about it in front of Catcher. The man was already in enough agony as it was; he didn’t need to listen to her talk about how she’d come across Iza sleeping with Obi-Wan. “I’m not sure—”

“She had to seduce him,” the Clone spoke up unprompted, looking ill. “Tyranus insisted that it would help drop his defenses. She was a weakness he wanted to exploit, so he did.”

“And you let her go along with it?” Anakin scoffed, “You would let your wife—”

“ _Neither of us had a **choice**!_” Catcher didn’t understand why the information wasn’t sinking into the younger man’s head. “It was either _do as you’re told_ or _die_. He used me against her to get her to do what he wanted. Obi-Wan isn’t the only one Tyranus is trying to break.”

“Is that going to be your argument forever? That you didn’t have a choice? _There’s always a choice!_ ”

“You didn’t see how distraught it made her! This was the _last_ thing she wanted to do and Tyranus knew it.” Catcher growled quietly and shut his eyes tight, trying to fight the urge he had to get up and slam Anakin’s head into the control panel. “If you saw her, you’d know. You’d understand.”

“Maybe that will teach her not to make deals with the wrong people.”

“ _You **kriffing little** —_” Catcher had started to get to his feet when Ahsoka put a hand out and used a gentle pulse of Force energy to keep him in place, shaking her head at him when he stared at her in disbelief.

“Don’t,” she said softly, looking like she was trying not to sigh. “He’s upset too.”

“I can’t just let that go!” Waving a hand, the Clone gnashed his teeth.

“I know how you feel, Catcher. I saw her. I felt her distress.” She was really trying to calm him down now. Letting him attack Anakin would be a bad move for everyone on board the ship for a _lot_ of different reasons, but mostly because it wasn’t productive in the slightest. None of the arguing they were doing was productive. “But I know she’s still holding on. She’s _trying_ , Catcher. You have to have faith in her.”

“And _you_ need to reel it in, Skywalker,” Windu said sternly, reclaiming his seat in the co-pilot’s chair. “Everyone on board is sympathetic to how you feel right now, but taking your anger out on Catcher will not save your Master.”

Anakin seemed to twitch in the seat beside the older man, his breathing coming in soft heaves of his chest as he stared straight ahead and gripped the arms of the chair. He practically radiated hatred at this point, although he was doing his best to stuff it away and calm down. Getting upset would only cause more problems than they needed, and they already had plenty to deal with. He wasn’t going to apologize, though. He still thought what Catcher and Iza had done was foolish and selfish and he hoped that they’d somehow be reprimanded for this.

~*~*~*~

“Are you _sure_ you’re not interested in passing the time with me, darling?” Obi-Wan asked from his corner as he watched Iza idly thumb the base of her lightsaber and stare out the window of the ship.

“For the last time— _shut up_ ,” she snapped back, doing her best to keep from looking at him.

“Come on now,” she could hear him walking up behind her and felt the warmth of his body heat long before the brush of his fingers. “You were quite eager before,”

Iza wasn’t supposed to deliver him _damaged_ , but she couldn’t stop herself from ramming the hilt of her lightsaber into his stomach, getting to her feet to switch seats.

“If you touch me again, I’ll cut your kriffing hands off.” She warned, wishing the damn ship would just go faster. They were a little less than a half hour outside of where they needed to be, but she couldn’t up the speed without risking a flyby. She’d never been that great at flying; that was Catcher’s job.

“You still haven’t told me where you’re taking me,” Obi-Wan looked annoyed as he rubbed his stomach and followed her movements. He wouldn’t try his luck again; if Iza wasn’t interested in playing anymore, then he’d respect that and leave her alone. But _man_ , she’d gone cold quick. Not too long ago she’d been melting in his hands, begging and pleading to him for more of what he had to offer. Now she behaved as though he was the vilest thing in the universe. He couldn’t wrap his head around it at all.

“I’m not going to.” Turning her lightsaber over in her hands, she sighed and clipped it onto her belt, careful to keep it out of his direct range. She wasn’t about to let him disarm her and take control of the situation.

“I think I deserve _some_ kind of explanation, Iza,” sitting down in the seat she’d vacated, Obi-Wan turned blue eyes towards her and scowled. “You’ve been all over me for the last day and a half and now… _this_.” Gesturing to her closed off posture, he frowned. “What the hell is going on?”

She ignored him, propping her chin against her knuckles and keeping her eyes pointed away from him. Stars forbid the man get the bright idea to try and force her into that damned private void of theirs. She wasn’t sure if it would work anymore since the Bond was _nearly_ severed, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

“ _Iza!_ ”

Nope. He could suffer with not knowing until they got to Tyranus’ place. She owed him absolutely nothing as far as she was concerned. She’d done her damn job and she was going to finish it and get what she was owed. And then she would _leave_ and never come back. Obi-Wan would be the Sith Lord’s problem, not hers. At least, that was the plan until something closed tight around her throat and cut off her ability to breathe. Both hands came up to grasp at the invisible hand wrapped around her neck and she let out a choked sound when there was nothing there but air to scratch at.

The edges of her vision began to blur and turn black before Obi-Wan released her, causing her to inhale sharply and cough, doubling over out of the chair and onto the floor. Fighting to get her breathing steady again, the brunette heard him get up behind her and covered her head when his hands brushed her shoulders.

“ _I’m sorry!_ ” she choked into the cold metal floor, trying to curl up so he wouldn’t hurt her further. “I’ll do whatever you want— _I’m sorry!_ ”

“Iza,” Obi-Wan’s voice sounded soft and a little panicked as he knelt beside her, trying to get her to peel herself up from her spot on the floor. Honestly, he had no idea what had come over him. He’d just gotten so damn _mad_ that she was being stubborn about answering such a simple question that he had given no thought to his actions. “Iza, please get up,”

Shaking like nobody’s business, Iza braced her palms against the floor and pushed herself up, terrified beyond belief to look at him. She flinched horribly when he touched her face but allowed him to tilt her head towards his even as tears welled up in her eyes and spilled faster than she could stop them. What had she done? Breaking Obi-Wan had turned him into a _monster_. If something as simple as ignoring him would make him pull something like that, what else would he try if she continued to dismiss his advances? She wished she’d waited for Catcher. This never would have happened if he was here.

“I didn’t mean to,” running gentle fingertips down the column of her neck, Obi-Wan shook his head and leaned in to kiss her forehead, hating that he could feel just how hard she was shaking. “I’m so sorry,”

“Can I… get up, please?”

“Of course,” nodding, he stood and offered a hand to help her, which she took with some reluctance. He wasn’t surprised when she backed away from him immediately, using the bottom of her tunic to wipe her face.

“I’m gonna…” gesturing towards the bathroom, she tried not to rush away from him so she could lock herself inside. Once the door was shut and she was sure the lock was secure, Iza covered her mouth to smother the sob that escaped her. What was she going to do? They still had a good ways to go and she couldn’t stay in here the whole time, could she? _Catcher._ She could call Catcher on the comm and tell him to have Anakin step it up on that poor excuse of a chase he was giving. Did he honestly thing she hadn’t known they were following? _Thank the Force_ the younger man was as headstrong as he was. Fussing with a few settings on the communicator, she hesitated for a moment before pressing the button.

“ _Little Bit?_ ”

She hadn’t meant to sob into the mic at the sound of his voice—Force, she hoped that Obi-Wan couldn’t hear it—but she also hadn’t been able to help herself.

“Catcher… _help me_ ,” she hissed, smothering a cough.

“Sweetheart,” he sounded like he was trying not to panic and she could hear other voices in the background. “What’s going on?”

“I need you,” she paused a moment to make sure that Obi-Wan hadn’t moved from the front of the plane before continuing, “I can’t take him. He’s too strong for me.”

“ _Iza,_ ” Master Windu’s voice nearly had her screaming in relief. He’d managed to get to Alderaan after all. “Listen to me carefully. Do not engage his anger. Is there somewhere away from Tyranus’ base you can set the bird down?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only ever been through here a few times.”

There was a long pause from the other side of the comm and she held her breath, listening for both the conversation on the other end and any signs that Obi-Wan might be listening in. So far, he _still_ seemed to be stationed at the front of the ship. Hopefully he was going to stay there.

“Anakin says there’s an uninhabited stretch of the planet you can land on.” Catcher said after a few moments, still sounding like he was about ready to come out of his skin. “Just tell him that’s where you’re going. Does he know about—”

“No,” she answered, feeling something like relief wash over her now that there was a plan in motion. “I didn’t say anything to him,”

“Good girl.” Iza could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s my Little Bit,”

“I have to go,” she really didn’t want to. “I can’t stay in here forever. I love you.”

Shutting the communicator off was probably the hardest thing for her to do in that moment, only because she didn’t know what might be coming next. Tucking the comm away, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door to open it, surprised to find that Obi-Wan hadn’t moved at all from the co-pilot’s seat. He looked to be deep in thought, rubbing at his beard and oblivious to her presence until she slowly walked up to take up the spot next to him. Turning his head to look at her, the older man opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, and shut it again as he watched her start to fiddle with things on the control panel.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re almost there,” swallowing the remaining tears she tried to offer a smile and pointed to a planet that had shown up on the radar. “See? Right there,”

Obi-Wan looked between the radar screen and the brunette a few times before nodding and leaning back in his seat. _Thank the stars._ If he didn’t believe her, he didn’t show it. He just continued to stare straight ahead in silent contemplation while Iza prepared to take them down. This was it; they were in the clear. She just had to get them through the atmosphere and find a level surface to set them down on and she could just _run_ and hide until Catcher and the others showed up. Obi-Wan wouldn’t stand a chance against _all_ of them.

“Who were you talking to?” his voice cut through the silence like a hot knife, catching her right in the gut and making her tense up.

“What?” she did her best to act as casually as possible, pressing things on the console and preparing for their descent.

“I heard you talking in the bathroom,” he still wasn’t looking at her but it felt like his eyes were staring holes into her all the same. “Who were you speaking to?”

“No one,” shaking her head, she prayed he wouldn’t try to choke her again. “I was crying. I was talking to myself because I needed to calm down.”

She could tell by the way he grunted that he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t seem to want to press the issue further. He seemed far more interested in surveying the planet she was preparing to land on. This place didn’t seem inhabited by anything _humanoid_ , but again—he said nothing. Iza did her best to keep her hands from shaking each time she took them off of the manual controls, trying to focus on landing instead of what might be going through Obi-Wan’s mind.

“Iza?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you lying to me?”

The tears were back, blurring her vision and making it ridiculously hard for her to see what was in front of her. If she didn’t blink and clear them, she could hit something and send them crashing into the ground. Biting down on her tongue, she shook her head and let out a quiet laugh.

“I’m not lying,” blinking once, she cursed the damned tears for falling instead of just dispersing evenly. That invisible hand was around her neck again, only not quite so tight this time and she knew it was over. There was no turning back from this. Before the older man could say anything, Iza pointed the controls down sharply, making the ship nosedive and startling Obi-Wan into releasing his grip.

“ _Iza!_ ” he looked like he wasn’t a very big fan of the idea that they were about to smash into a large group of trees coming up fast and it showed when he reached to try and seize the manual controls from her. Growling when she shoved her shoulders into his chest, Obi-Wan managed to pull them up so that the bottom of the ship skimmed over the dirt, but they were still heading straight for the trees.

Iza had already leapt from her chair, heading to the back where the loading ramp had started to drop open. She knew this was going to hurt like hell and she was prepared for it, but it was better than ending up dead. She could hear Obi-Wan yelling to her as she ran down the ramp as it dragged along the dirt, and jumped off, rolling quite a few meters while the ship continued until it slammed into the forest. Laying with her cheek planted in the freshly disturbed soil, she watched the smoke rise from the wreckage and felt the pain start to set in. She didn’t know if he’d gotten out—she didn’t really _care_ —but at least she wasn’t stuck inside that kriffing ship with him anymore.

It took a good few moments before she was able to find enough strength to push herself upright—thank goodness for all of that endurance training—and she looked around wearily when she heard the sound of another ship landing nearby. Picking herself up, she felt a hard twinge in her side and almost doubled over again, grabbing for where it hurt the most. She was bleeding. She must’ve rolled over her lightsaber and stabbed herself on the decorative hilt. Deciding not to dwell on it for now, Iza began to lurch towards the sound of a panicked voice, letting out a harsh sob when she felt something halt her dead in her tracks.

 ** _No_**.

She was being cranked up onto her toes by an invisible force that grasped tightly to something deep inside of her gut and kept her hovering. The outraged shouts from in front of her coincided with the distinct sound of several lightsabers being clicked to life, but the pressure only tightened before a second found its way to her neck.

“Did you think you’d escape, _silly girl?_ ” Tyranus’ voice was loud in her head and faintly, she wondered how he’d known. How had he figured out her plan and gotten here so quick? The wrist comm; he must’ve had it tapped.

She wanted to scream when the pressure in her belly became excruciating pain, but the invisible hand around her throat prevented anything more than a rasp from escaping. Clawing futilely at the air, she fought as hard as she could not to black out, hearing Catcher holler somewhere in the muffled throbbing of her heartbeat that pounded in her ears. When she was finally released, she was all but slammed back down into the dirt, breathing it in and choking on it as a dark presence walked up behind her, followed closely by another.

“You…” a booted foot turned her over with a hard nudge, and Iza stared up into the blazing yellow eyes of Darth Tyranus, who looked absolutely _livid_. “Useless little wretch,” looking over his shoulder at whoever was behind him, Tyranus jerked his head at the brunette. “Kill her,”

“What?” Obi-Wan sounded confused and he looked it as he stepped into view. He’d definitely managed to get himself out of the ship before it’d hit the trees, but he was still pretty banged up. Iza wondered if Tyranus had healed him somehow; he’d definitely done _something_ because the man didn’t look like he was _all there_.

Shoving a black handled lightsaber into Obi-Wan’s hand, the taller man shoved him forward.

“ _Kill her_ ,” he sounded like he wasn’t going to order him to do it again.

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ” Anakin’s voice carried, loud and borderline hysterical, from where he stood near the ship with his lightsaber at the ready. He’d been instructed not to move yet—something that he was having a very hard time doing. He kept shifting his focus from Tyranus, to Obi-Wan, down to Iza’s pitiful looking form. He wanted to do _something_ , but Mace wouldn’t give the go-ahead. “ _Don’t do it!_ ”

“She tried to kill you,” Tyranus leaned in to murmur into Obi-Wan’s ear, “She’s done nothing but _play_ with you, my boy.”

A dark sort of look crossed Obi-Wan’s face as he stared down at Iza, his anger evident in his blue eyes. He remembered. He could remember every last accusation she’d made against him, all the rude things she’d said, the way she’d made him feel _special_ and then turned away like he disgusted her; yeah—she’d definitely done her fair share of screwing with him. Funny, considering she’d done a lot of complaining about how _he’d_ messed with her head. If he tried to reach for it now, the Bond was barely a whisper in the Force and he wasn’t sure which one of them was holding onto what little remained of the connection. _Oh well_. Clicking the lightsaber to life, his face lit up red from the plasma beam and he watched the way the younger woman’s face began to twist in horror.

“Obi-Wan… _please_ ,” Iza couldn’t find the damn strength to move. She wasn’t sure if she was being pinned by something, or if she just couldn’t will her body hard enough to get it to even twitch. “ _Please_ ,”

“ ** _MASTER, STOP_** _!_ ”


	11. I See What I Really Am

Iza was _so_ confused.

One minute, she’d been preparing for the blazing hot stab of a lightsaber through _some_ part of her body, and the next she’d felt the heavy thump of a _corpse_ land in the dirt beside her. She could hardly turn her head to see whose it was, although logic told her it _wasn’t_ Obi-Wan. He was still standing over her with that red lightsaber illuminating his features in the most sinister of ways.

But he looked just as confused as she did.

“ _Master!_ ” Ahsoka’s horrified voice echoed across the open space again as she tugged at Anakin’s cybernetic arm in an attempt to get him to lower it. “He’s _dead!_ _Stop!_ ”

The sound of the lightsaber powering down caught Iza’s attention and she saw Obi-Wan staring down at it before throwing it onto Tyranus’ body like it’d burned him. He looked _lost_ as he ran his fingers through his thick hair, turning away from her and walking away instead of kneeling to help like she’d thought he would.

Catcher was at her side within seconds, yelling things that didn’t make sense to her muffled ears and doing his best to lift her out of the dirt without causing more pain. It didn’t help; she still hollered at the top of her lungs when he disturbed her. The center of her torso felt like it was on fire, the sensation spreading to her back with each step he took no matter how carefully he tried to tread. She was almost hysterical by the time he’d brought her back to the group, the fuzzy blackness having returned to the edges of her vision as she struggled to keep herself conscious.

“I’m gonna die,” she tugged at his tunic frantically, terrified out of her mind that she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. “ _Catch…_ ”

“Give her to me,” the soothing voice of her Master sounded in her ear and Iza shouted out again as she was reluctantly passed over, still gripping onto Catcher. “Iza, you need to let go,”

“I’m _scared_ ,”

“I know you are, but you need to let go and you need to trust me,” Windu spoke softly to her, nodding to Catcher to indicate that he needed his help detaching Iza’s fingers from his clothing. The Clone didn’t object, carefully pulling her free and giving the back of her hand a kiss before he allowed the Jedi Master to carry her off somewhere he couldn’t see.

 _Stars_ , he was going to vomit. It had all happened so damn fast. He’d seen the ship hit the ground and he’d gone into a panic. And then he’d been prevented from helping her—someone had stopped him with some kind of invisible wall. He’d had to watch her struggle against something unseen as it lifted her, choked her, and dropped her back down like she was nothing but trash. And Tyranus—it was like he’d been _waiting_. He couldn’t understand how this had happened. His head swam as he remembered seeing the different colors of his comrades’ collective lightsabers, and then the bright red flash of the one across the way. There’d been a scream. _Ahsoka_ had screamed. Anakin had done… _something_. He couldn’t tell what. It all seemed like a blur now.

_Wait._

He could vaguely recall seeing the younger man clenching his fist with a look in his eye that he recognized as one he’d seen in Iza before. Tyranus hadn’t even _noticed_ him before he’d gone wide-eyed and just— _collapsed_. Time seemed to return to normal after that, but he still couldn’t comprehend any of it. Had he really made such quick work of the Sith Lord like that? It didn’t seem possible to him.

“ _Anakin!_ ”

Ahsoka’s voice startled Catcher again and he barely turned in time to see her chasing after her Master, who’d taken off across the makeshift battlefield after Obi-Wan. There was a lot of yelling that he couldn’t quite hear and he was beyond surprised when the two men began to trade blows. He might’ve been fine with just letting them duke it out had Ahsoka not wanted to get involved. Cussing under his breath, the Clone took off after her and grabbed her by the shoulders to try and haul her back.

“You gotta let them get it out!” he insisted when she tried fighting him off, “They’ll be fine!”

They were only using fists, after all. It was a little brutal to watch the two men throw punches at each other and knock one another into the dirt, but Catcher knew best that sometimes brothers just needed to fight it out. As he continued to hold Ahsoka back so she wouldn’t try to jump in and pick a side, Catcher caught bits and pieces of the argument going on between the two of them. Anakin was furious about what had happened and Obi-Wan was just as angry, but at least there seemed to be some sort of remorse in his voice. Once the elder of the two had been pummeled into the dirt hard enough to keep him down Anakin got to his feet, panting hard and sweating as he pointed down at him,

“This ends _now_ ,” swallowing the blood in his mouth, the younger Jedi glared at his friend and tried to ignore the sting from the bruises already beginning to swell on his face. “I don’t care what you have to do— _you fix this_.”

“I _can’t_ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan spit his blood out into the dirt in a rather uncivilized manner, turning onto his side cautiously as though he was worried his friend might shove him down again. “That’s not how this works, and you know it,”

“ ** _Then you TRY_** _!_ ” Tears cut through the dirt on Anakin’s cheeks, angry and hot. “If _she_ can do it, so can you, Master!”

“I can’t go back, Anakin,” the older man was pretty sure that his nose was broken. He really should have been more careful about that damn cybernetic hand. “It’s not…” _Stars_ , had the boy cracked his ribs too, or had that been the crash? “It’s not that simple,”

“Then I’ll leave too,” looking much like a stubborn toddler, Anakin fixed the other man with a hard glare and received a choked laugh in return.

“You would leave your Padawan behind?” Sitting up a little more, Obi-Wan tried to wipe the blood from his beard and shook his head. “She still needs you, Anakin,”

Catcher wondered if he’d ever seen either man look so defeated before. It was clear what they’d been arguing over now, and he could feel Ahsoka’s shoulders starting to shake as she fought against her tears. He wasn’t sure how appropriate it would be for him to hug her, so he simply stood there and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. Anakin wouldn’t leave her behind; he likely wouldn’t let Obi-Wan get very far, either.

“ _Master_ ,” Anakin’s voice was tight, like he was becoming frustrated over not having anything else to argue back with. “You can’t just turn your back on us.”

“Not you,” Obi-Wan shook his head, sighing as heavily as he could manage. “Never you, Anakin,” he seemed to think about that for a minute before he tacked on—“Not any of you.”

“Let us _help_ ,” Ahsoka pulled free of Catcher’s grasp to stand beside Anakin, not willing to look up at her Master to see what sort of damage had been done. It was hard enough to look at Obi-Wan’s battered face. “You don’t have to go away,”

“This isn’t something I _want_ to do, Ahsoka,” how the hell was he supposed to stand up? His head was swimming from having his skull rocked so hard and he didn’t trust the stability of his legs. “It’s in the rules,”

“You’re fighting a losing battle you two,” Master Windu chimed in from behind and Catcher almost broke his neck turning his head so quickly. He frowned when he saw that Iza wasn’t with him and felt panic stab down his back. The Jedi must’ve sensed this because he gave the Clone a look and pointed his thumb back towards the ship, watching as the man took off like a shot. “I’m afraid Obi-Wan is right. He cannot come back to the Temple.”

“Where is he supposed to go?” Anakin wiped a stray bit of blood from his chin and Windu suspected it was meant to cover the way his jaw had wobbled. “I’m just supposed to _let_ him?”

“There are plenty of places he can go, Skywalker,” coming over to help the other man to his feet, Windu steadied Obi-Wan and eyed him for a long time. “But yes—you must let him choose the path he wishes to take.”

“He didn’t _choose_ this!” Flecks of spittle flew from Anakin’s mouth as he threw his hand in a violent gesture towards Obi-Wan, not bothering to stop the new flood of tears. “ _She did this to him!_ ”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, my young friend,” Obi-Wan attempted a smile through all of the drying blood and darkening bruises on his face, trying his best not to sag against Master Windu. “Iza is not solely at fault for this. This… has been a longtime coming.”

“What?” Why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t Obi-Wan reached out to him for help? They could have _done_ something about it before it’d gotten to this point!

“I’m sorry, Anakin. This is the way things must be.”

“What am I supposed to do without you?” Anakin’s blue eyes seemed to drip tears one after another and he didn’t have a single care in the universe that Windu and his judging gaze was there to witness it. “ _Please_ , reconsider!”

But Obi-Wan only ducked his head, grunting in pain when he tried to pull away from Master Windu.

“ ** _Master!_** ”

“I’m not your Master, Anakin,” it hurt to say the words, but he had to face it at some point. It didn’t mean that the younger man couldn’t find him out in the galaxy if he so desired. And it didn’t mean that they couldn’t continue to be friends—to be brothers. It simply meant that he could not go home with him.

“If you go, _I go too!_ ” Anakin wasn’t going to do this. He wasn’t going to let Obi-Wan just _leave_ like that. To hell with the Order and the Code. He knew that walking away from Ahsoka wasn’t something he wanted to do either—but he couldn’t just let _go_.

“You still have a chance, Anakin,” Obi-Wan shook his head and blew out a breath that looked extremely painful. “Don’t squander it away for me. My decision has been made. I’m sorry.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” the younger man knew good and well that he sounded like a child who wasn’t getting their way, but he wasn’t sure how else he was supposed to behave. What was he supposed to do? Aside from physically restraining his friend to keep him at his side, Anakin was fresh out of ideas.

“This is not goodbye,” Obi-Wan was running out of ways to try and console Anakin without going to him. “You must stay where you are needed.”

“I _murdered_ him!” Anakin pointed a finger back at Tyranus’ body, looking between Windu and Obi-Wan. “That should count _against me_.”

“ _Anakin that’s enough!_ ” Obi-Wan’s shout echoed long after he’d spoken, silencing the other man and bringing a sort of stillness to the air that made him want to be sick. He was having a hard time keeping his composure as it was, breathing through clenched teeth and fighting against a burning in his eyes that he wasn’t sure was dirt or the need to cry. He pushed off Windu’s attempt at trying to keep him steady again, taking a few steps away to give himself some space as he stared down at the filthy toes of his boots. “That’s… _enough_ , Anakin. You need to… let go. Stop fighting this.”

“You should fight _harder_.” The bitter words were like a knife in his chest, and it almost made the older man laugh.

“I’ve been fighting for long enough,” he really needed to sit. His head was swimming and his vision kept going in and out. “I’m afraid I don’t have much left in me.”

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

Anakin’s panicked cry was the last thing he heard before everything around him went black.

~*~*~*~

Waking up settled across someone’s lap felt disgustingly familiar and for a moment, Iza wondered why she couldn’t hear the steady beeping of medical machinery. Flinching against the touch of a hand on her face, she opened her eyes with a sharp gasp and would have sat up if Catcher hadn’t lain a hand against her chest to keep her restrained.

“Don’t move so quick,” he warned, looking terribly relieved to see her conscious. “You’re not entirely out of the woods, Little Bit,”

He was right. Her body throbbed horribly with pain, but that severe stabbing in her stomach had stopped. Breathing harshly through her nose, she let him carefully prop her up and leaned into his chest.

“Hurts,” she muttered, shutting her eyes when he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Everything felt _bruised_ and she couldn’t concentrate hard enough to try and stem the pain with the Force. Faintly, she wondered if there were any bacta syringes on the ship, but that thought was quickly brushed aside when she realized that she and Catcher were the only ones on board. “Where…?”

“They’re outside. I’m not sure what’s going on.” Catcher didn’t know if he ought to tell her that Anakin and Obi-Wan were quite literally fighting over the older Jedi walking away from the Order. He had a bad feeling it might cause her to try and get up to go throw her two cents in, and he just had no energy for that. “I’m sure they’ll be in soon.”

“Tyranus,” she tensed when she spoke his name, looking up. “What happened?”

Catcher did his best to explain the things he’d seen from his point of view, pausing to frown a few times as he struggled with verbalizing what Anakin did. In the end, he simply held a hand up and closed it in a tight fist. In his arms, Iza looked _stunned_. That was _not_ a very good thing for the younger man to do—especially in front of Master Windu. He would likely be thrown in front of the Council and stripped of his title. He’d be cast out and Ahsoka would be left with no one. _Well_ —she would always have Master Plo, but the connection just wasn’t the same.

“Little Bit,” Catcher’s fingers slid along her bruised jaw and into her hair, pausing to pick a few leaves out before he made another attempt to cradle the back of her head. “Calm down. Whatever you’re thinking about, _please_ try not to—”

He was cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the ramp and looked on in horror as Anakin rushed by him with Obi-Wan limp in his arms. Iza jerked hard against his hold, shouting out in pain but almost willing to bear it as she tried to sit up further to see what was happening. Anakin ignored the voices of Master Windu and Ahsoka as he carefully set Obi-Wan down on the floor of the ship, looking _so damn lost_ as he stared down at the other man. Obi-Wan’s chest still moved with his slow, shallow breathing but it was clear he was struggling.

“We have to go,” Anakin choked out, still ignoring anything anyone tried to say to him. “We have to get him back to Coruscant.”

“Skywalker,” Windu sounded annoyed. If the boy would calm down for five seconds and let someone else _help_ , Obi-Wan would stand much more of a chance. The man was exhausted, no doubt, and the blows to the head probably hadn’t helped much either. But telling that to Anakin was like talking to a steel wall. “ _Listen to me_ ,”

As the two men in the cockpit began to argue, Iza stared over at the battered Jedi stretched out nearby. Something in her chest _hurt_ at the sight, despite all of her constant insistence that he did nothing but disgust her. She could detest someone and still feel pity for them, couldn’t she? Looking up at Catcher, she nudged him.

“Bring me closer,” she whispered, hoping Anakin wouldn’t hear. She had a terrible feeling he might become enraged if he saw anyone get near his fallen Master.

Catcher hesitated for a moment until he was nudged again and eventually shifted them around enough for Iza’s liking, watching curiously as she reached out and gently took hold of Obi-Wan’s fingers. Shutting her eyes, the brunette did her best to concentrate her breathing and reach along what was left of their Bond. It wasn’t easy; she’d done a damn good job at shredding every link she could find, but there were those few that had been out of her reach. When she felt her mind touch his, she squeezed his fingers and grimaced in pain. The darkness here was far more blinding than what she kept locked away, but she could still feel Obi-Wan floating around _somewhere_.

“Hey— _what are you_ —”

“If you touch her,” Catcher’s growl was as distant as Anakin’s outraged shout had been, echoing in the dark space swirling around her. “I will snap your kriffing neck.”

She had to concentrate and keep _looking_. A hand settled on her shoulder and filled her with a strange, peaceful warmth that began to take the pain away and made it easier. But it was when she felt the older man finally return the squeeze to her fingers that she knew she’d found him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Obi-Wan mumbled, sounding exhausted. Iza couldn’t see him but she felt his presence in the void all the same. “How did you get here?”

“How do you think? _Stop_ resisting, Obi-Wan,” tightening her hold on his fingers, the brunette focused harder and whined when her body protested with another wicked jolt of pain. “I don’t have a lot to give, dammit!”

“Save it for yourself,” had she _ever_ heard him sound so hollow before? “You’ll need it.”

“Anakin needs _you_. What you’re doing is not fair.”

“None of it was fair, Iza,” he sounded angry, but too tired to do anything about it. “You can’t fix this.”

“It’s _my fault_ ,”

“Yes it is,” was he smiling? She wished he’d come out of the dark and show himself. “It is indeed, darling. But not solely.”

“He’ll Fall without you, Obi-Wan,” it wasn’t a smart move to try and throw that at him, but maybe it would get him to think. “You can’t do this.”

“Anakin is stronger than you think. He’ll hurt for a while, but he’ll be fine.”

“And you?” _Force_ , she was starting to get tired. Even with the assistance, she was having a hard time keeping a hold on him. “What will happen to you?”

“That remains to be seen.” A pause, and then a heavy sigh. “Please let go.”

“I won’t. Not until I find the Light I _know_ is still here,” someone was touching her face but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away. “You were saving it for me, remember? You said you would always be here. You wouldn’t force me to leave if I didn’t want to. _You would carry my Light and keep it safe_.”

“Things change, darling,” she could sense him shaking his head. “I’m sorry,”

“ _Face me_ ,” she was gripping his hand now, her breathing getting harsher. “Come look me in the eye if you’re going to lie to me!”

Silence followed for a few moments until the shadowy figure of Obi-Wan slowly stepped forward, his face illuminated by a single orb of pale blue light hovering nearby. When he didn’t get close enough, Iza willed him forward and was surprised at how little resistance he put up. The two simply stared at one another for a long while until she reached to touch his cheek, his hand mirroring the move. In unison, they traced each other’s features like they were committing them to memory, but Iza had an ulterior motive.

“Don’t do this,” Obi-Wan warned, noting that he was finding it _extremely_ hard to break his gaze away. “Iza,”

“I’m not doing it for me,” pressing cool fingertips to the center of his forehead, Iza tried not to look pained as she sent a wave of something warm straight into him. The sensation wormed past his skull and into his mind, taking anchor anywhere it could until it had bled downward into the rest of his being. His breathing evened out to the same pace as Iza’s and his grip on her hand loosened to something gentler.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he was just going to keep arguing, wasn’t he? She’d have to get used to that. “You’ll corrupt yourself, too.”

“I’ve been this way for a while,” trailing her fingers down his face, Iza smiled faintly and shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not the one who has to get used to it.”

“What did you do?” Obi-Wan’s blue eyes looked sad as he stared back at her, his hand still mimicking her actions against its will. “Iza, what is this?”

“The Bond,” looking amused, she tapped the end of his nose with a fingertip before letting her hand fall away. “A _new_ one, so I can keep an eye on you. For Anakin’s sake.”

“ _Iza_ —”

He was silenced by the soft press of lips against his. The kiss was chaste and bittersweet and it ended almost as quickly as it’d begun. Left to stare at her when she pulled away, Obi-Wan fixed her with an odd look. The younger woman said nothing, however, and gave a light pat of her hand against his chest.

“I will **_not_** promise to carry your Light, Obi-Wan,” she said quietly, giving a prod to where her hand had just been. “You must hold onto it yourself.”

~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan woke with a start, sitting up with a hard cough and a pained groan. At first, he couldn’t figure out where the hell he was. Then the familiar smell of bacta hit his nose and the blue glow of the machines around him alerted him to the fact that he was in a Medcenter. It wasn’t the Temple’s medcenter, so at least he knew he wasn’t about to be reprimanded by a dozen Jedi, but it gave him no comfort not knowing _which_ medcenter he’d been dumped off at.

“You’re awake,” the quiet feminine voice had him turning to find Iza resting on a bed nearby. “Anakin will be pleased,”

“What happened?” Rubbing his hands over his face was a mistake. The bruises had not had time to heal all the way and he was sure he’d just reopened the wound in his lip. “What did you do?”

“I already _told_ you what I did when I was doing it,” she looked annoyed, but playfully so. “I fixed some things.”

“You had no right—”

“I did not fix _you_ , Obi-Wan,” pushing herself upright on her bed, Iza held her stomach as she leaned forward to look at him better. “Just the Bond. I cannot fix _you_.”

“Good,” he wanted to go back to sleep. Just talking was making him exhausted. “I don’t want to be fixed.”

“You will need help with your temper,” she sounded just like Windu with that tone. “You choked me twice. I’m not sure you even remember. I don’t know what was _you_ and what was Tyranus’ influence.”

He didn’t want to tell her that both times had been him. He’d let his anger get the better of him and acted out of impulse. Part of him felt sick that he’d made her his target, while the other part felt no remorse at all for his actions. That part scared him a little—but also _fascinated_ him.

“I don’t need your help.” He wouldn’t look at her as he said it, choosing to lie back on the bed when he started to become dizzy. “I can figure this out on my own.”

Her laugh cut through the sounds of the machinery and he could almost see her shaking her head.

“ _Fine_ ,” she wasn’t going to fight. She’d done enough fighting. Iza just wanted to get the hell out of here and go _home_ where she and her husband could fix their kriffing life and _move on_. “You do that.”

“You’ve done enough, Iza,” Obi-Wan tried a gentler tone, but he wasn’t going to look at her.

“I saved your ass,” she muttered at the ceiling, sounding extremely bitter. “You’d be dead without me.”

“I’m grateful to you for that,” how quickly she seemed to forget that she’d tried to hand him over to Darth Tyranus; now she wanted to talk about _saving_ him? She really did like wallowing in guilt, didn’t she? “But there is nothing any of you can do for me now. This is something… I must do alone.”

“ _Have fun_ ,”

“Must you be like this?!” sitting up on his bed again, Obi-Wan looked over at her like he wanted nothing more than to fling her through the window. The girl was a damn _nightmare_ sometimes. “You’re a walking _headache_ , you realize? So indecisive with your feelings, projecting your hatred the way you do! What makes you think I’d be able to learn a _damn thing_ from you?”

“Let it out, darling,” Iza laughed, sounding tearful as she continued to stare at the ceiling. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“You _infuriate_ me,” as if she couldn’t tell, “You play these little games with my head and I’ve _never_ known what to do with you. How am I supposed to go anywhere near you after the things we’ve done?”

“Listen to yourself,” finally sitting up again, Iza pushed the hair out of her eyes and glanced at him briefly. “You don’t love me, Obi-Wan. And I certainly don’t love you. Not the way you’d want me to.” The tiniest of smiles lifted the corner of her lips before it faded away and she bowed her head. “I deserve your anger. I’m ashamed of the things I did to pull you to this side. I’m ashamed for being this selfish.”

“And you think that by helping me, you can find some kind of redemption?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I only want to help because Anakin cannot. The Order will not allow it. It’s too risky—even for him.”

“He’s going to try,”

“Of _course_ he’s going to try,” giving him a look, Iza rolled her eyes. “And he’s going to fail because he doesn’t have the slightest clue what he’s doing. I’ve been walking this path for three years, Kenobi. If I can find middle-ground, so can you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to find middle-ground,”

“Then at least let me help with the _kriffing_ temper,” glaring at him, the younger woman got herself caught in another hard staring contest with him. “You can’t go out there ready to Force choke every bastard who pisses you off, Obi-Wan.”

“I don’t want your help. I don’t know how many times you want me to say it.”

There was a loud clatter as Iza threw a hand out to pull his bed closer, yanking the machines along with it. Leaning in until they were nose to nose, neither one seemed to want to back down as the room began to get uncomfortably warm. Baring her teeth at him lightly, the younger woman huffed and gave his shoulder a shove.

“You’ll regret it,” another wave of her hand and she sent his bed scooting back to its spot, only _slightly_ askew. “Giving yourself over to _that_ side is far worse than what I’ve done to you.”

“Or maybe it’ll be the best decision I’ve ever made,” swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Obi-Wan grunted as his bare feet touched the floor. He could stand steadily enough as long as she didn’t get any bright ideas and chuck anything at him.

“He’ll hunt you down, Obi-Wan,” green eyes followed every move the older man made, watching him detach electrodes and gather up the filthy pile of robes that had been left on a chair nearby. “He’s going to be furious.”

“Don’t let him know you’re still Bonded to me,” he didn’t look at her when he said it, going to the window as if to assess whether or not it was a good escape route. “Make him believe that you’ve severed the connection.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

He only turned around because of the hint of desperation in her voice, finding her on the edge of her bed looking like she might try to come after him. He couldn’t have that. Putting on his warmest smile, he walked back over and set aside the things in his arms in favor of cupping her head in his hands. Much like the kiss she’d given him before, this one was soft and bittersweet—though it was anything _but_ chaste. He didn’t linger, however, choosing to break away and plant another quick one between her eyes before he let go and picked up his things and headed back to the window.

“Take care of yourself, darling,” he said over his shoulder before picking a chair up with a wave of his fingers, hurtling it through the glass. “And take care of Anakin for me.”

“ _Wait—_ ” but he’d already jumped before she could stop him. Scrambling off of her bed, Iza let out a frustrated yell when she became tangled in the wires connecting her to her machines, ripping them off and going over to the window to see where he’d gone. Glass dug into her bare feet and into her palms as she leaned out to try and spot him, but he was gone. She heard commotion behind her and felt someone grab her by the shoulders to pull her away from the window, but she refused to answer any questions about what had happened. Even as Catcher fussed over her and carried her back to her bed, she stared out of that damn window.

“I guess he made his choice,” Anakin’s deep voice was the only thing to pull her attention away and she looked up to find him standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded over his chest.

“I tried to stop him,” she wasn’t sure he’d believe her, even if it _was_ the truth. “He wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Yeah,” the younger man’s blue eyes shifted to look deep into her green ones like he was trying to stare through her. “I know,”

“What are we going to do, Master?” Ahsoka asked from beside Anakin, looking rather collected for as distraught as the room felt.

“We wait,” Anakin sucked at his teeth and turned to look back out the window.

“He’ll be back. Just be patient and _wait_ , Snips.”

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far--THANK YOU! I do hope you've enjoyed this. I _plan_ on a third installment of this story, but there are a few things I'd like to get out first. 
> 
> Keep your eyes peeled~
> 
> Thank you to all of those who've left kudos and comments--y'all are the _best!_
> 
> -Cali

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is the **SEQUEL** to _Not Strong Enough_ , so if you find yourself confused/lacking context, there's a link in the summary~
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always welcome and appreciated<3


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